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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198386">Secret-Keeper</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyRenjun/pseuds/PeachyRenjun'>PeachyRenjun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, Super Junior</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fictional Religion &amp; Theology, If you read the epilogue, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mystery, Polyamory, Sad Ending, if you stop at the end of chapter 2, there's some background ships but i tagged the ones that show up for more than a few scenes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:14:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyRenjun/pseuds/PeachyRenjun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When scholar Kyuhyun decides to investigate the history of the prophet who had once been a prince, he didn't expect to find himself increasingly embedded within the story he was investigating. But the deeper he digs and the more personally invested he becomes, the more he learns about the darkness hiding beneath the shining veneer of the royalty and the church.</p><p>Or, alternatively:</p><p>Ryeowook thought he'd escaped the fate that all omegas faced: being married to an alpha with power over him. But when fate comes knocking, is Ryeowook willing to give up his hard-won freedom for the only alpha(s) he's ever loved?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cho Kyuhyun/Kim Jongwoon | Yesung, Cho Kyuhyun/Kim Jongwoon | Yesung/Kim Ryeowook, Cho Kyuhyun/Kim Ryeowook, Jung Yunho (DBSK)/Kim Jaejoong, Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin, Kim Jongwoon | Yesung/Kim Ryeowook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part 1: Kyuhyun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I finally finished a KRY fic. I know, I'm as surprised as you are.</p><p>2 chapters and an epilogue, which will be published over the next few days. This first chapter is the longest part.</p><p>Also: Heechul, Jungsoo, and Han Geng are about a decade older than everyone else, in this story. Other characters are all in their early to mid-twenties, but these three are in their mid-thirties.</p><p>Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy the ride.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The High Priestess was dead. The rest of society–even those who liked to style themselves as </span>
  <em>
    <span>secular</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>rational</span>
  </em>
  <span>–were required to show their grief on such a day. For the citizens of the capital, at least those of the upper classes, that meant packed rows in the basilica as the priests and novices wailed from every crevice of the room. There were rows of them at the front, kneeling down on the stone floor and holding tightly to each other’s arms as they cried. Others crowded the edges of the room, holding as tight to each other as those in the front, their sobs just as loud. The air was poison, suffocating the lay people with the stench of omega sorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun was sitting in the tenth row, as close as one could get to the front without being nobility. He could still see the altar from his position, but those seated in the front rows were obscured from his sight. No seeing whether the princes cried. They would, at least if they had any empathy for their own brother. Jaejoong, seated at the altar alongside the remaining Church leadership, was crying as clearly as any of the other priests. Less openly, less dramatically, but crying nonetheless. Every so often he would turn, locking eyes with the priest sitting on his right, and he would be enveloped in the other omega’s embrace. Sorrow, as true as any other. And people thought Jaejoong was crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our Holy Mother, our guardian and messenger between this world and the next, has finally been called home.” The new High Priestess was not yet confident in her role, but she spoke the words as prescribed. “As we mourn this loss, we must not lose sight of the gift that we continue to share. It is in times of darkness that we most closely align, when we allow ourselves to depend upon one another most dearly. In this moment, sisters and brothers, we cry together in unison, and we call into existence the new day. When the new day comes, we may live in Her light.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From now, until the world ends,” Kyuhyun muttered, in quiet unison with the other lay people. The Church’s sorrow would drown them out, no matter how loud they answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Church was not a place where Kyuhyun ever felt at ease. Even on days where there were no deaths to mourn, he had never found a place among the pews which did not trouble him. They were always watching. Whether it was the old women and men who tended the candles; the young ones who sang in the choir; or the children, barely past presenting age, who passed out prayer leaflets to all those who could read them; their gaze never seemed to be absent. It did not help that Kyuhyun came out of social obligation rather than out of belief, nor did it help that he had grown up with no omegas in his own home. There was something mystical about them, even those that lay outside of the Church’s reach. Unnerving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As we wait for the new dawn, we must reflect on ourselves, on our strengths and our faults. Among our holy children, are there any who wish to come forward to share a wish or a promise to carry forward?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wailing died down. It was time to listen, rather than to cry. One of the children, sitting a few feet from the altar, was the first to come forward. “I have a wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it, my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to be more helpful to all of my sisters.” Sisters, of course, meaning her fellow priestesses and novices. The Church’s holy children, even the youngest among them, would admit to no family except the Church. “I know they work so hard everyday, and I want to make their duties easier for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very thoughtful. I’m sure your sisters will appreciate your help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next to come forward was one of the older priests, his hair graying at his temples. “I want to do better in my role as a teacher, so that our youngest brothers and sisters will not grow up with their questions unanswered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The third was a middle-aged woman, her sleeves marked with the blue cuffs of a doctor. “I want to be kinder to my fellow healers. It is often too easy to forgive ourselves our mistakes while placing guilt on those who are no more responsible than ourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fourth to step forward was a young man, one who had previously sat among the choir. Red sleeves, a secret-keeper. He was demure-seeming, slight of stature and with a certain hesitance to his walk that was visible even from ten rows back. “I want to grow my courage. We are all faced with difficult decisions, and often we know the correct path but are hesitant to take it. I want to have the courage to do what I know is right, and to take the burdens which my brothers and sisters can’t bear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brave boy. Perhaps not so demure after all. Kyuhyun couldn’t help but be intrigued by this priest, by this young man who seemed no older than himself. One rarely saw secret-keepers speak, let alone saw them voice their own flaws. Self-criticism was a frequent practice of the Church, especially on occasions such as this, but those as high in the ranks as secret-keepers tried to keep an appearance of perfection. Unless this was a ploy by the leadership to make them seem more approachable–unlikely–then what this omega had said was his honest admission. Even if he was striving to do better, it was still an admission of guilt. Imperfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the omegas’ testimony, their confessions and wishes and promises flew by without Kyuhyun’s notice. His eyes stayed on the secret-keeper, who had settled back amongst the rows of the choir and took up hands with his fellows. He could not see him clearly, nor could he see all of the other eyes that filled the basilica. Nevertheless, he was certain that he was not the only one watching the secret-keeper. Someone else must have noticed him, must have decided that he was worth paying attention to. They must have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half an hour before dawn would break through the stained-glass windows, the new High Priestess called to an end the line of omegas. “Would the King or one of his children would be willing to step forward to offer a wish or a promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a brief moment of silence, of an anticipation. Would the King himself step forward? What would he offer, if he did? Would one of his children do it, would they send forth one of the youngest children to offer a harmless confession? If all else failed, they could turn to Jaejoong–but that would be an insult. They wouldn’t turn to him. They would sit, and they would wait, and as dawn broke one of the royalty would feel compelled to walk forward. If only to be allowed to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A figure stepped out of the first pew, walking forward to just before the altar. He bowed to the High Priestess, and then turned to face the assembled congregation. The Crown Prince himself. “I have a promise to make.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun’s eyes shifted, settling on Jaejoong. What reaction would the prophet have, would he even display recognition of his own brother? Or would he not acknowledge him at all, so caught up in his own delusions that he felt nothing for him? Kyuhyun couldn’t tell, from so far away, whether Jaejoong’s eyes shifted, whether he darted his gaze away. But he could tell that Jaejoong did not hide, that his hand shifted to take hold of the priest sitting beside him. He leaned forward, just the tiniest bit. Recognition, plain and simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Your Highness, make your promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have an important decision to make, over the next few years. I must choose who will be by my side as Consort. The promise I wish to make is that I will keep the goddess and the people engraved on my heart as I choose, putting the common good above my own desires whenever they come into conflict.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for your promise, Your Highness. Your commitment to the goddess and Her people will serve you well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to do some research. Different than I would normally do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it may not be immediately publishable, but I would like to write something about the prophet, the King’s son.” Kyuhyun bit his lip. It would be a tough sell, but he could do it. “I want to get the stories from as many people as I can now, before any of them forget the details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you want to research this why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because something seems off, compared to the narrative we’re usually given. And I want to figure out why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘off,’ Kyuhyun?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun sighed. He had trouble answering that question, even to himself. It wasn’t evidence so much as it was a feeling, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>instinct</span>
  </em>
  <span> that there was something more than they’d been told. “It’s just… There’s something that doesn’t make sense, there’s too many contradictions. We’re told the prophet was completely sane up until he came of age; that he was courting a young lord when he started to have his visions. Normally omegas are given to the Church at presentation, not at adulthood, certainly not when they’re already looking for marriage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not always. The Church takes omegas at any age, if they feel the omega is called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still.” Kyuhyun looked down at his hands, trying to come up with any kind of rational explanation for his instincts. “The Church hadn’t pulled from the royal family since the war ended. That’s centuries of history, shattered. What could be so important that tradition could be tossed aside like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was called. Just like the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he was called, why didn’t they see it when he was a child?” Kyuhyun held himself back from slamming a hand down onto the desk. “It’s not just one of these things. Either of them alone could be explained away, sure. But together? The only explanation is that there’s something we’re not being told. It just doesn’t make sense, otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng sighed. He leaned back in his chair, looking around his office. Hundreds of books and thousands of scrolls crowded around the various shelves, each of them the work of his tutors or pupils. Kyuhyun’s work was among the shelves, not differentiated from the others. It need not be. Han Geng could find anything he needed, so long as he had been the one to put it there. Careful, meticulous. “You know you won’t be able to publish this. I don’t just mean in the next few months or years, I mean decades. Even if you passed it on to one of your own students to publish after your death, it may still be too soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still. The scholars of the future deserve to know the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be getting yourself into trouble with this. Even without publishing it, you’ll be digging holes you may fall into.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng’s eyes were careful, seeming almost worried. “It’s unlikely that you would be executed. No matter how deep you dig, you’ve already published too many celebrated articles for that to be an acceptable punishment. But you will be dealing not only with the Church. You’ll be dealing with nobles, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span> nobles. They can and will use their power over you, if you give them incentive to do so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m prepared to end up in a few noblemen’s beds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re certain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some alphas of the scholarly class felt it emasculating to be asked into a nobleman’s bed. After all, it was no secret which role they would be playing in such an act. Kyuhyun tended to see it more practically: if he got something out of it, then it would be worth whatever discomfort came. And besides, it was certainly possible to feel pleasure in the act of receiving. Kings and their Consorts wouldn’t get on nearly as well if it weren’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another sigh. “How do you plan to carry out this research?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the Church’s cooperation, as much as possible. Ask the princes for interviews, if I can get them. Maybe even the young lord he was courting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Church will be the safest source. Perhaps not the most reliable, but they’re the least likely to put you in danger.” Han Geng leaned forward at his desk, thinking. Kyuhyun was content to watch him until he continued his thought. “Do you have any brothers or sisters among the clergy? I’m sure they could help you find someone to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t, and I doubt they would help even if I did. Aren’t priests and priestesses supposed to ignore their previous family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Supposed to, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Implying he thought otherwise in practice. He knew something, and Kyuhyun would get to the bottom of what it was he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a sibling among the clergy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Han Geng said. “Only child. But.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know someone who might be able to help. If he’s willing to talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. Evidently, that was enough of a question to require no words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An old flame. It’s not only nobles that lose their loves to the Church.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun bit his lip. He could laugh, the look on Han Geng’s face was certainly one of exasperation rather than of sorrow. He’d moved on by now, Kyuhyun was certain of that much. He was married, seemingly content in that relationship, and had never brought up his “old flame” before. But in many ways, that just raised more questions. “Any chance your old flame can get me an interview with the prophet himself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if there’s anyone who could do it, it’s him. If he’s willing to talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s willing to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An hour of time, no more, and if Junsu says to go, then you go. Understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng’s “old flame,” Kyuhyun had learned, was not only a trusted member of the clergy, not only someone who could sway the leadership, he was Kim Heechul. Heechul was tall, at least for an omega, and his gaze brokered no arguments. Purple sleeves marked him as leadership, and the hair pins woven into his messy bun marked him as head of the basilica. One half of the diocese leadership, and with more singular authority than anyone else but his other half or the High Priestess herself. He was absolutely terrifying, and he was doing Kyuhyun a favor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun took a deep breath, and with one last glance to Heechul’s haunting violet gaze, he walked into the room. The door shut behind him. The room was small, little more than a bed, a shrine, and a shelf populating the room. There was one small table in the center of the room, and tea was already set. Both omegas were sitting on the far side of the table, a place clearly left open for Kyuhyun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We made jasmine tea,” Junsu said, gesturing for Kyuhyun to take a seat. “I hope you like the flavor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I will.” Kyuhyun took his seat. Junsu smiled, leaning forward. Jaejoong was less responsive. His eyes met Kyuhyun’s, but Kyuhyun couldn’t say that he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The eerie glow of his purple eyes, the same glow that shown from Heechul and Junsu’s eyes, was much less focused. He was radiant, and he was absent. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s our pleasure, really.” Junsu pushed a cup toward Kyuhyun. Junsu had blue sleeves. Trained as a healer, and assigned to keep an eye on someone whose only visible afflictions came from within his mind. “We’ll try our best to answer any questions that you have, but I do have to let you know a few things in advance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such as?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are some things which might cause my charge to lose his connection to the present moment. I’ll try to keep him grounded, but if things escalate I may have to ask you to leave so that he can deal with his visions in peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” Kyuhyun bit his lip. He turned to Jaejoong. “May I call you by name, or is there any title you prefer, or?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaejoong is fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junsu looked almost surprised that Jaejoong had spoken. He didn’t make any move to stop him, but the look of surprise and hesitation said more than any action could’ve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Jaejoong, I’d like to get an accurate picture of how you came to be part of the Church. Any information you can give, I’d be happy to hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you know the basics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll start with, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If Kyuhyun wasn’t wrong about the course of events, there was only one person that could be referring to. “Jung Yunho, you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong nodded. “He was...sweet. He wanted to marry me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And did you want to marry him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong blinked. That look was there again, that far-away look. He was in his head, not in the moment. “Maybe. I don’t really remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junsu bit his lip. “Maybe this isn’t the best topic, I’m sure there are other questions you have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine.” Jaejoong took one of Junsu’s hands in his. He didn’t look as he did so; neither his gaze nor his expression faltering. Jaejoong didn’t smile as he spoke, didn’t raise his eyebrows or wrinkle the corners of his eyes. He spoke quietly, simply, with just enough range in his voice to not qualify as monotone. “I’m foggy, not disturbed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junsu bit his lip, clearly wanting to voice his concern once more. He restrained himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything else you remember about your time with Yunho?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong was silent for a moment. The sound of their breaths, three different streams out of rhythm, echoed in the silence. “He liked to talk about art with me. Nothing really important, but...it was something to talk about. A reason to be together. We were arranged, but he didn’t want to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wanted to be something more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong nodded. “He wanted me to trust him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quick, but without explanation. Why wouldn’t Jaejoong trust Yunho? Was there something Yunho had done, or was it on principle? He had a good reputation among the lords, from what Kyuhyun had gleaned in his years of traveling among those social circles. There was no obvious reason to distrust him, at least not a commonly-known one. “Any particular reason why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong didn’t answer. He blinked, once, twice, and when he looked back up at Kyuhyun his gaze seemed confused. “Sorry, I...I’m not sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really think we should switch topics.” Junsu was fidgety, his unoccupied hand unable to stay still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm,” Kyuhyun scrambled to think of which other question he should ask. He hadn’t planned to move on, but if Junsu was insistent, he wouldn’t argue. “Do you remember how you became part of the Church? How they determined you were called?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I always came to services each week, sometimes more often. The leadership liked to keep an eye on me, ever since I presented.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you were an omega?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shallow nod. “I talked to someone each week, and eventually he said that he thought. Well, he thought I was having visions. And he recommended I be brought into the Church.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s this someone? Do you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s my secret-keeper.” Jaejoong looked down at his lap. “I don’t think I can tell you much beyond that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Living up to the ‘secret’ in his title, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun could swear that he saw a hint of a smile on Jaejoong’s lips. “Something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, did you think you were having visions before your secret keeper said you were?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People aren’t good judges of their own visions,” Jaejoong said. For once, he met Kyuhyun’s eyes, and Kyuhyun felt as if Jaejoong were truly watching him. Challenging him. “Things that feel like reality may not be there at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he helped you figure out that you were having visions? He was a ‘good judge?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that would certainly be a lead, if Kyuhyun could find out anything about the secret-keeper. Given Jaejoong’s hesitance to divulge any information about him, though, he’d have to get that information somewhere else. Heechul must know, and maybe Han Geng could talk his way into another favor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you didn’t have any visions before you started courting Yunho?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I know of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t your secret-keeper tell you if you were?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I switched secret-keepers a few months before. Not enough time to really, well, know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Switched?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junsu jumped in to answer. “The secret-keeper is close to our own age. Jaejoong had a much older secret-keeper before, and when she retired from her position, Jaejoong began meeting with his current one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I see.” Kyuhyun furrowed his eyebrows. “So, you think it’s possible that he could’ve said you had visions without any evidence?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has visions,” Junsu said. “Whether he had them before he entered the Church or not, he has them now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong looked down at the table. “It’s possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So even Jaejoong himself could confirm that suspicion. Perhaps the secret-keeper really was just able to see something the older one wasn’t, or perhaps the visions began while Jaejoong and Yunho were courting. But it was equally possible that this secret-keeper had brought Jaejoong into the Church for some reason of his own. But Kyuhyun would have to meet the secret-keeper to figure out why. Yet another reason to keep his eyes and ears open for information about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything that happened when you were with Yunho that might’ve caused the visions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong bit his lip. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then almost seemed to flinch away from an imaginary touch. Junsu’s eyes narrowed on Jaejoong’s face, his hold on Jaejoong’s hand tightening. When Jaejoong opened his eyes again, his eyes were focused. Not on this world, but beyond it, as if he was seeing through Kyuhyun into something else. “I… When a bird lands on a tree branch, do you pluck it from the sky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you keep it in a cage? Feed it every day and call it lucky for coming into your care? After all, it landed on the branch instead of flying away, clearly it must’ve needed care. Would you tell it that, when it pecked at the bars?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Junsu turned to Kyuhyun. “I think you need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s having a vision?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun nodded, hesitantly, and stood up, quickly making his way to the door. As he left, he swore he could hear Junsu whispering to Jaejoong, telling him that the bird was still free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Yunho had a grin that could span an ocean. It was kind of disconcerting. “You’re Changmin’s friend, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we have the same tutor.” Changmin was an interesting friend, that was the best way Kyuhyun could put it. Kyuhyun considered himself a put-together person, all things considered, but Changmin managed to tear all of that down simply by being present. He knew all of Kyuhyun’s secrets, and not in a good way. “How do you know him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Occasional lover,” Yunho said. He poured a glass of wine for Kyuhyun, and Kyuhyun couldn’t object. Sitting in Yunho’s apartment in the capital, there wasn’t much he could object to while still seeming polite. “I was interested in his research, and we became close. Especially after I lost Jaejoong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun hummed. Lost him? “For as much as I love Changmin, I can’t imagine he was a good substitute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wasn’t a substitute.” Yunho took a drink from his own glass. “Jaejoong was a potential spouse, Changmin is a lover. Very different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In what way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spouses are means to an end. Lovers are people you’re with simply because you want to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Jaejoong? He was a means to an end?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho laughed, but it was restrained. Forced, even. “I wanted Jaejoong to be a lover, as well as a spouse. He would have none of it, though. Strictly transactional, keep everything according to the rules and traditions of courting. Wouldn’t even let me kiss him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t you have to kiss him, eventually?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him that. He didn’t care.” Yunho’s laugh turned bitter. “I don’t think he ever really intended to marry me, as much as I was serious about it at the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did he intend, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho looked off into the distance. His alpha-red eyes were gently ablaze, burning through time itself, as if he could burn away the grass that littered the ground and see the past for what it was. “I’m not sure. I don’t think he intended to be part of the Church, he was never that religious when I met him. But he didn’t want to be married either. If he could’ve ran into the mountains and lived there alone, without the world watching him, I think he might’ve done it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just wanted to get away? To be alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that.” Yunho sighed. “Jaejoong wasn’t...he wasn’t the type to tell you what he felt. He would tell you a million things and hope you figure out what he was hinting at. But he’d never tell you what he meant, in plain terms. You had to work for the answers, and sometimes. Sometimes the answers just weren’t there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure whether mentioning this was a good idea or not, but it might help him get some clarification. He could always backpedal, if necessary. “When I talked to Jaejoong, he seemed to have a lot of holes in his memory. Is that what you mean, about answers that aren’t there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talked to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun nodded. “Last week. His healer was with him, but I got a few questions in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho laughed. “Junsu’s very protective of him. Won’t even let me alone in a room with him for two minutes. I’m glad you got your questions, at least.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Avoiding the question. Maybe. Maybe not. It was worth poking a hole in, either way. “So did he have memory problems when you knew him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not obvious ones. Nothing more than any of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it’s a recent problem, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like it. We all know he’s not the most stable. It’s just another symptom on top of the pile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun sighed. Could he dig deeper? Maybe, but all he would be getting was Yunho’s speculation. As interesting as it might’ve been, that wasn’t what he was here for. He needed information, real, physical information that could form a solid history. Jaejoong had a million emotions and speculations and almost-memories that Kyuhyun could sort through, if Junsu let him, but Yunho was different. He was rational, logical, able to answer Kyuhuyn’s concrete questions in a way that Jaejoong couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you lay out a timeline of when you and Jaejoong started courting, when he joined the Church, etc.? With anything you think is worth adding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Yunho said. “Do you want some paper to take notes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brought my own.” Kyuhyun pulled a collection of loose, mostly blank papers from his bag. He grabbed a blank one, setting it on the table alongside a pen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Changmin does that too. Is that something your tutor taught you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. I think it’s in our blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably.” Yunho took another sip from his glass. “I started to court Jaejoong after our twentieth birthdays, so a little over three years ago. I was a friend of his brother, and he introduced us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which brother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jongwoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crown prince. Clearly Yunho felt comfortable around him. “So the prince wanted you to court Jaejoong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He certainly wasn’t opposed to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that was somewhere to dig. Maybe. Kyuhyun had wanted to talk to the prince in any case, and Yunho sounded like the type of person who could get him a meeting. “What happened during your courtship? Anything specifically odd, or?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure. Like I said, he didn’t have any visible problems, especially not at first. Toward the end, a few weeks before he joined the Church and ended our courtship, maybe a few things were off. But it wasn’t… It wasn’t anything dramatic. No big ‘break’ or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was nervous. On edge. I’d started to talk about marriage more seriously, so I’d assumed it was related to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that’s what triggered the visions. Or perhaps it was what had driven the secret-keeper to think Jaejoong should come to the Church. But why would it have changed anything? Jaejoong must’ve known from the beginning that marriage was always the aim of their courting. What had caused the secret-keeper to make his decision? That was the central question, the question that neither Yunho nor Jaejoong could answer. Only the secret-keeper himself could tell Kyuhyun how and why that decision was made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he ever say yes to marrying you, or did he avoid the question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was kind of just...assumed that we would be married. It wasn’t really a yes-or-no question.” Yunho sighed. His fingers began to fidget, tapping out an uneven rhythm on the table. “I just meant that I started to really make plans, and to talk more about our future. What we would name children, things like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you already had the King’s approval?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got his approval weeks before I started courting Jaejoong. I was a little terrified, getting it, but I wouldn’t dare to court him otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Very fair. “Did anyone warn you about him having any kinds of memory problems, emotional problems, anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho looked off to the side, a strained half-smile coming to his lips. “I think you should probably ask Jongwoon about that. He would be able to tell you better than I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s what it kept coming back to, wasn’t it? Only the prince could tell him about Jaejoong’s childhood, his young adulthood, what had been normal before Yunho had walked into the picture. “That’s assuming I can get an interview with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Yunho said. “I’ll get you one. Would you rather meet with him formally or informally?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a difference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you meet with him informally, he’s more likely to tell you the truth. You’ll have to put up with his quirks, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quirks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho laughed. “He wouldn’t be a prince if he didn’t have quirks. He treats people like works of art to be examined, and once you’ve become art in his eyes he’ll tell you anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what does it take to become art?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you can guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since his less than successful interview with Jaejoong, Kyuhyun had taken to spending time in the basilica. Not because it had grown on him–the old, stone walls and cold marble floors were as imposing as ever–but simply because he had come to the conclusion that if he opened his ears enough in the right places at the right times, eventually he would hear something useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The right time and place did eventually come, but not by virtue of the game of numbers that Kyuhyun was playing. The time and place came for Kyuhyun, and it came in the form of a delicate hand grabbing his arm and pulling him into one of the back rooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the alpha that’s been trying to do my job, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kyuhyun asked, as an immediate response, before he began to process the situation. The omega who had grabbed him was half a head shorter than him, yet looked about the same age as him; he was thin, but his posture was undeniably daring. Hostile, even. His sleeves were red. As Kyuhyun looked at the man’s face, he realized where he’d seen him before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You interviewed the prophet. I appreciate your thoroughness, but it really is my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re his secret-keeper?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun looked at him skeptically. Sure, it would be enough of a coincidence to be pulled aside by the secret-keeper who’d caught his attention at the High Priestess’ funeral. Sure, it would be enough of a coincidence to be pulled aside by Jaejoong’s secret-keeper. But for those two people to be the same person? It seemed improbable. After all, there must’ve been dozens of secret-keepers in the capital alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ryeowook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No family name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I bother using.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook’s eyes rarely left Kyuhyun’s, but Kyuhyun couldn’t help shifting his own eyes away. There was something about them, not just the shade itself or the look in them, but the way their glow lit up the dark room. Eerie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is telling me not to interfere in your business the only reason you pulled me aside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” He turned to leave, assuming the conversation over, but Ryeowook’s hand landed on his arm once again. He had a strong grip, for fingers that seemed so delicate. “Let me go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that either.” Ryeowook turned them around, pushing Kyuhyun toward an empty seat in the corner. Once he was sat down, Ryeowook moved around the room, finding matches on one of the shelves and beginning to light the candles that lined the little room. They weren’t far from the main sanctuary, but Kyuhyun had no doubt they would be left undisturbed. “You’re not leaving here until we understand each other’s reasoning. No earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if I refuse to talk–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep you here until you’re begging for sleep. Or water. Whichever comes quicker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit harsh, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That generally works, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, if that was his logic, Kyuhyun couldn’t argue it. Clearly ethical arguments wouldn’t hold any sway with him, and he’d apparently thought through the practicality well in advance. He could probably fight his way out, if he really wanted to, but even Kyuhyun’s atheism wasn’t enough to convince him that hitting a priest was okay. He’d wanted to meet Ryeowook, if only to figure out his reasoning for bringing Jaejoong into the Church, and now he had the opportunity. If only he could actually get him to answer the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m all ears. Why is my investigation interfering with your job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook took a seat across from Kyuhyun. He tucked his legs under himself and folded his hands neatly in his lap. “The Church ensures that its membership has a certain sense of privacy. It’s part of being a family. Imagine if I came into your home and started asking your mother about her childhood trauma. You’d think I was being terribly rude, wouldn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaejoong agreed to give me an interview. Heechul signed off on it. I was given rules to follow, I followed them, and when asked to leave, I did. How is that anywhere near the same situation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how did you get that interview?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would that matter? Clearly, he wanted to make a point, but Kyuhyun couldn’t imagine what kind of point it was. “My mentor asked Heechul to get it for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your mentor courted Heechul, when they were younger, didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook leaned back, a cooler smile passing onto his face. Satisfaction. He’d found his point. “There’s a lot of things that your mentor thinks he knows about Heechul. There’s quite a few things I’m certain he doesn’t know. And do you want to guess why that is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because Heechul doesn’t want him to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this matters how, exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he is a guest in our home, just like you are. He will be welcomed in, on occasion, and when he visits he will be treated as a friend. We will show him the living areas, perhaps the library or even the kitchen, but there are places in our home in which he is not permitted to go. They aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not telling you that you can’t use the interview that you had with Jaejoong. I’m just telling you that you can’t expect to find anything more. Because you’ve seen the rooms we’re comfortable showing you, and the rest of the house isn’t for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is it for, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Church.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course. “Why does the Church have secret-keepers, then, if the rooms hidden from guests are for the use of the family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook swallowed deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut, once, twice, before he looked back to Kyuhyun. “The bedrooms are for the use of the family. But you wouldn’t let the children run loose in the basement or the attic, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “Monsters hiding in the attic? Something that would scare the children away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether it would scare them or not, they’re better off not knowing what’s there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it doesn’t scare you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook paused. He looked off to the side, and the glow in his eyes seemed to fade, ever so slightly. “It scares me everyday, Kyuhyun. I’ve just learned not to turn-tail and run when I see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Self-preservation instinct would tell you to run as far from danger as you could. But you go back into the attic, over and over again, even though it scares you every time. Why wouldn’t you run?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook sighed. “Because someone has to go into the attic. And I would rather it be as few people as possible. Once you’ve already seen it once, the damage has been done. Might as well go up again and save someone else from seeing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ryeowook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s in the attic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook hesitated, and then a laugh broke through his clenched lips. “You know I can’t tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even in metaphor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. If I tell you in metaphor you will decode it and feel proud of yourself. The only way to keep a secret is to never tell it to a soul who doesn’t already know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other secret-keepers know what’s in the attic, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook shook his head. “Most of them have barely touched the ladder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which meant that Ryeowook held some special duty above the rest of them, something that had made him the lamb sent repeatedly to slaughter. One of his assignments must hold the key, and Jaejoong seemed as likely to be that key as any. “Is Jaejoong in the attic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a no. “You’re not going to give me any specifics, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, if that line of conversation was over and Ryeowook’s point was made, Kyuhyun felt it only right that he should try to get something out of the conversation as well. “Can I ask you one more question, then? I assume you’ll tell me if you’re not allowed to answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded. “Go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you recommend Jaejoong to be brought into the Church? In the months he was courting Yunho, what changed about him that warranted that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked at him for a moment, and Kyuhyun almost believed that he would answer the question. “He needed the Church,” Ryeowook said, instead of a real answer. “Sometimes omegas need help, and when they do, the Church will help them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Medical help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Jaejoong’s case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time he found something worth pushing on, that was always the answer. Which meant that he was starting to ask the right questions. “Were his visions really a part of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. He’s a prophet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you brought him in because he needed help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sometimes those in need of help manifest visions in order to bring them home to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To bring them to the same home where the attic is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked to the side. “Kyuhyun, if someone is so in need of help that they’re manifesting visions, the world outside the home is far worse than anything that could be found in the attic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince held out the bottle of wine with one hand. His own glass had already been refilled several times, and the bottle was half empty. Only one of his other two companions were drinking, so that fact was certainly an accomplishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince poured a glass for Kyuhyun, not too full but not exactly a small glass either. “Yunho told me you wanted to talk about my brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to write a report on him. See if I can collect enough stories to put the puzzle pieces together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince grinned. “My brother’s quite the puzzle. I wish you luck in finding all of the pieces.” He lifted his own glass in a toast, clinked it against Kyuhyun’s glass and the glass of his companion, and drank half the glass in one go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince had two companions, one of whom leaned on each shoulder as they lounged in the gardens of the palace. Both companions were beta males, both of them from the scholarly class, and both of them were perpetual academic underachievers. Hyukjae drank, Donghae didn’t; neither spoke much beyond cracking a joke here or there. Apparently the two of them had found a common place in the prince’s bed, and that was as good of a career for a beta failed-scholar to take as any.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping you could help me find some of those pieces.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince grimaced. “You see, I would love to do that. The problem is that I’m not sure even I know what all of the pieces look like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s as much of a mystery to you as to anyone, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More of one, really.” The prince downed the rest of the glass. “Being raised a crown prince isn’t all that conducive to spending time with your siblings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you have all the time in the world to spend with us,” Hyukjae commented, smiling wryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re here whether I ask you to be or not,” the prince responded, before he returned his attention to Kyuhyun. “He’s an odd person. I’d be lying if I could claim to understand him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yunho said you introduced him to Jaejoong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince nodded. “He was a good match.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t understand your brother, but you felt comfortable arranging his marriage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince bit his lip. “Marriage isn’t about personality, not for nobility. It’s about who fits best in which role. And Yunho fit the role of ‘king’s son-in-law’ quite well. He would be a good addition to the family. That’s what I mean, when I say he was a good match.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No consideration of love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t afford that, in most marriages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Donghae looked up at the prince. “Love is for lovers, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You assume you count as my lovers,” the prince said, lips drawn into a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else would you call this?” Hyukjae said. He reached across to take Donghae’s hand in his, bringing the hand to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Art,” the prince said, and he began to laugh as both betas rolled their eyes. Self-conscious, then, and every bit as obsessed with art as Yunho warned he would be. That could be one path to information; to convince Donghae or Hyukjae to get the information for him. But–forgive Kyuhyun his manners–he doubted Donghae or Hyukjae would be aware of the information they were looking for. If Kyuhyun wanted information from the prince, he would have to get it himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes something worthy of art?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worthy of art? As in making art in the image of something?” The prince seemed intrigued, even to the point of leaning toward Kyuhyun and away from his companions for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you described your… ‘relationship’ with Donghae and Hyukjae as art. I just want to know what you mean by that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not so much the relationship as just… recognizing other people as art. The way that someone moves, the way their voice carries, the gentle warmth that comes from being in their presence. Anyone can be art, if you want them to be. All it takes is a little observation. And once you’ve made someone into art within your mind, the natural conclusion is a wish to participate in that art. To elevate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you elevate that art?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince smiled, turned to the side to meet Hyukjae’s eyes, and with a quick glance to make sure that Kyuhyun was watching, he met Hyukjae’s lips with his own. It wasn’t overly passionate, but it wasn’t cold either. Soft, quiet affection, performed for Kyuhyun’s eyes. The fact that it was performance undeniably changed the character of it. When one is alone with another, enjoying the act of intimacy, the focus rests on the feeling. But in front of a third, or a fourth, the focus shifts. Is the angle right? Is there any spit dirtying the image? Does it look </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span>? In the shift from </span>
  <em>
    <span>action</span>
  </em>
  <span> to </span>
  <em>
    <span>performance</span>
  </em>
  <span> it becomes an aesthetic choice rather than a passionate one. Art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince broke the kiss and turned back to meet Kyuhyun’s eyes. His hand lingered on Hyukjae’s chin. “Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is that why the prince kept two companions at his side, rather than one? One to participate, one to watch? After all, eventually the prince would have to choose a single consort, and Kyuhyun doubted a consort would be happy to share his prince with another. Consorts didn’t have as much dignity as the nobility were granted, but they clung to whatever they could negotiate for themselves. The prince must’ve known, from a young age, that whatever his proclivities toward his art were, he could only enjoy it for a short time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Donghae?” Kyuhyun directed his interest to the beta. If he could provoke a reaction from the prince via one of his companions, he would do it. See how deeply the prince cared what they thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like to think of yourself as art, like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all like to feel beautiful and handsome, don’t we?” He said it absentmindedly, not meeting Kyuhyun’s gaze. He was caught up with a loose thread in the prince’s robe, fingers pulling at it as if it were interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No reaction from the prince at the exchange. Perhaps Donghae’s response had been plain enough not to warrant one, or perhaps the prince wasn’t as interested in his companions as he would claim to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Returning to our original topic, Your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you didn’t know your brother very well, is there any chance your younger siblings might understand him better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They might </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> him better, I doubt they understand him better.” The prince poured himself another glass. “He spent plenty of time with the little ones, especially after he presented, but they’re too young to really understand anything. Any memories they have of him are tainted at best and imagined at worst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would their memories be tainted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Children imagine things all the time. Imagine, your dear older brother’s just been declared a prophet. Wouldn’t you start changing your memories to suit that narrative? Any odd thing he said to them could be reinterpreted as a vision or prophecy. They simply don’t have the capacity for logical reasoning, for telling apart the sensical from the nonsense. They believe what they want to believe, and they believe Jaejoong is a prophet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you think it would be a waste of time to ask them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince sighed. He looked down, blinked, and took a deep breath. “That, and I don’t want to bother them. They worry enough as it is, far more than little children should have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do they worry so much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because they’re lonely. Not in the sense of literally being alone, but they’re lonely nonetheless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you can’t change that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” the prince replied. “None of us can. How do you expect one lonely-hearted bastard to save ten others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t coming together and caring for each other change it, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, Kyuhyun, we’re not lonely because we’re alone.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>We.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “How do you expect children to not be lonely when their own father couldn’t show a care in the world for them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that...was actually usable information. If the prince felt so clearly that his experience was shared by his younger siblings, Jaejoong must’ve shared it as well. Uncaring parents, a deep-seated feeling of loneliness. That could’ve driven someone insane, if aggravated. At the very least it could’ve helped it along. It wasn’t a clear cut explanation, certainly not, but it was more than Kyuhyun had gotten so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince must’ve taken Kyuhyun’s silence as an inability to answer. He sighed. “Well, I think it’s getting a bit late. My quarters are always open to you if you have more questions, Kyuhyun. Just be aware that you may walk in on something if you don’t knock first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve tried every obvious lead, and all of them either </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me anything useful, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng leaned back in his chair. He was clearly less than stressed out by Kyuhyun’s constant pacing, and the way that corners of his lips twitched told Kyuhyun the older alpha was amused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amused.</span>
  </em>
  <span> At Kyuhyun’s frustration. “Is there a useful difference between those two situations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe? I’m not really sure. Jaejoong’s too scatter-brained to say anything, Yunho honestly seems not to know anything, the prince </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> know something but mostly seems the same as Yunho, and the only person who holds all the information I need won’t talk to me. He’s made that </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite clear.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The secret-keeper, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. He’s terribly frustrating. You ask him a question and he answers with a riddle, and the longer you go down the conversation with him the less you remember what you were originally talking about. It’s just… fascinating and infuriating at the same time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fascinating, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s very creepy, but not in the same way Jaejoong is. Jaejoong just says things that don’t make sense and looks you in the eye until you get creeped out, Ryeowook’s different. He threatened me. Like, legitimately threatened me. He locked me in a room and told me I couldn’t leave until I answered his questions. That counts as an interrogation. Unlawful arrest, even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly he’s taken up quite a bit of your focus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course he does! He has all the answers, and he’s unwilling to give me even one of them.” Kyuhyun sat down in the chair, slumping as he went. He buried his face in his hands and sighed. Ranting about the omega would get him nowhere, and he came to Han Geng for solutions, not because he wanted his mentor to mock him all day. “I can’t get him to talk. It’s just not going to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s off the list, then you need to figure out who’s still worth talking to, then. Is there anyone new you could talk to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, technically Changmin </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> know something. But that’s only if Yunho is withholding information. Which I doubt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would Changmin know anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve slept together,” Kyuhyun said bluntly. No way to edge around that one. “Quite a lot, apparently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can add him to the list, then. He’s worth talking to, if only for the sake of thoroughness. And it’s not like you never see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for </span>
  <em>
    <span>work</span>
  </em>
  <span> reasons, though. I see Changmin when I want to drink myself into oblivion, not when I want to question him for the sake of my research.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s a new day. Congratulations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun sighed. He wouldn’t like it, but. Changmin would probably be more honest with his answers while drunk anyway. And he wouldn’t even have to go through the trouble of properly interviewing him. “And out of my original contacts? Do you think any of them are worth pursuing again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you clearly think this secret-keeper–Ryeowook, right?–is a dead end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a dead end. He’s the best end, he just won’t answer me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he’s functionally a dead end. And talking to Yunho wouldn’t be helpful, especially if you start asking Changmin the questions you would’ve asked him. Is there any reason to talk to Jaejoong again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. From what Ryeowook had said about Han Geng and Heechul, he doubted they were close enough to go beyond the one favor he’d already gotten. “Can you actually get me another interview with Jaejoong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not. I could try, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still suboptimal. “I don’t think there’s much I could get from him, anyway. I think I almost got at the right question, but he went into one of his visions before he could answer. If I asked the question again, I would probably get the same outcome. No better off than I was the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you caused his vision?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t rule it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng sighed. He leaned forward, picking up a pen and beginning to fidget with it. “Let me know if you need that second interview, then, but at the moment it probably won’t be that useful. What about the prince?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he knows more than he lets on. But I don’t know how likely I am to get it out of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d have to convince him that I’m art.” Not that that was the worst option. The prince wasn’t unattractive. Kyuhyun could imagine himself kissing the prince, even being taken to bed by him. But that was the long game. Kyuhyun doubted the prince would trust him within weeks, perhaps even within months. He would get his story, but how long would it take to get?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I want to know what that means?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep with him. A lot, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you willing to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you have your method.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun sighed. He stood up to pace the room once more. Yes, that method could work, but it still wasn’t the best method, it wasn’t guaranteed. Whatever information he could get from the prince, it would still only help him to understand the outer pieces of the puzzle. The inner pieces lay in Ryeowook’s hands, and he wouldn’t give them up, no matter how much other information Kyuhyun slept his way into.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun was prepared to walk in on a lot of things, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>prayer</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And as we search for answers, may we remember that the goddess watches over and guides Her children. In Her light, we cannot be lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching curiously as the prince knelt, hands intertwined with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ryeowook,</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all people. The omega was leading the prayers, his eyes closed as he muttered the words. In contrast, the prince’s eyes were open, focused on Ryeowook. He had a soft grin on his lips as he watched him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Art.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knowing all and loving us dearly, our mother will choose for us what is right. We will know when we have made the right decision. Her light will guide us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From now, until the world ends,” the prince said in quiet unison with Ryeowook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked up, and the prince’s soft smile transformed into a neutral expression. The prince shifted his eyes to the door, to Kyuhyun, and Ryeowook turned to follow his gaze. His eyes narrowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook stood, trying to pull his hands away from the prince. He managed to get one hand away, but the prince grabbed on more strongly to the other wrist. The prince looked up at Ryeowook and kept his voice down, as if he didn’t intend Kyuhyun to hear. “I’ll think about it, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Ryeowook said, equally as quietly. Polite, but not sincere. He yanked his wrist away and walked to the door, brushing past Kyuhyun as he went. “Good morning, Kyuhyun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning.” Once Ryeowook was down the hall, Kyuhyun turned back to the prince. He raised an eyebrow. “You know Ryeowook?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” the prince said. “Come, sit down. Would you like anything to drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s a little early in the day for that.” Kyuhyun laughed. He followed instructions, sitting down in the place that Ryeowook had occupied a minute earlier. The sitting area wasn’t far from the bed, but although the pillows and blankets were messy the prince clearly didn’t have any lingering companions among his sheets. “How do you know him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I met him the same way I imagine you did. I wanted to know more about what had happened to my brother, and the Church sent me Ryeowook to explain why that wasn’t for me to know. And he was so pretty that I felt compelled to find reasons for him to keep coming around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun blinked. Sure, the prince was blasé about keeping multiple lovers, but the Church was the one boundary that no alpha or beta could cross. “You do realize you can’t sleep with the Church’s omegas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince laughed. “I’m well aware. But there are always loopholes, especially for princes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you found those loopholes, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t consummated it yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” the prince said. He stood, walking over to a cabinet where he had several bottles of various wines. He took one out, pouring himself a glass. “You’re sure you don’t want any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure, thank you.” Kyuhyun took a deep breath. “Does Ryeowook know you’re...pursuing him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he knows. It’s why he’s so mad at me.” The prince took his place opposite Kyuhyun, and took a long sip of his wine. Red as blood, and it lingered on the prince’s lips. “He hates to be pursued. Thinks it’s below his dignity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And evidently, you disagree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he’s more worthy of art than anyone else I’ve ever seen. And that’s filled with more dignity than any other statement I could imagine.” The prince looked off to the side, and a soft smile came to his lips. The same smile he’d had earlier, when looking at Ryeowook. “He’s a child of the sea, you know. Born to a fisherman’s family. Sometimes, when I look at him, I wish I’d been born a peasant in the same village so I could’ve married him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that taken with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beyond taken,” the prince said. “But Ryeowook’s stubborn, and I don’t want to push him too far. If he comes to me, it has to be willingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well that was polite of him, at least. If the prince had found his loophole, his power no doubt held a high enough value to be able to push Ryeowook into it whether he wanted it or not. And the fact that the prince thought there was a chance of Ryeowook coming to him willingly, even despite his stubbornness, meant he thought the omega could be talked around. And that meant, just maybe, that Kyuhyun could talk Ryeowook around as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think he’ll come to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a chance.” The prince leaned back in his seat, a light grin coming to his lips. “We were– Well, I guess that’s a secret. At this point, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’s it a secret?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a secret too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ And your loophole is also a secret, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” The prince grinned. “That’s what I get for falling for a secret-keeper. Lots of secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun smiled, trying to make himself seem interested rather than merely polite. After all, if it had taken the prince months–years, it sounded like–to talk Ryeowook into giving away even a few of his secrets, then Kyuhyun would take even longer. Better to get into the prince’s good graces, stick with the plan, and get the information out of him. “Any interesting secrets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plenty. But that’s not for me to tell, unfortunately. He tells me things, but only things that concern me. And they’re still Church secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “And you’re allowed those secrets? Even as someone outside the Church?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I was– Well, let’s call it another loophole. I’m afraid telling you the whole story would involve at least a dozen of the secrets I’m not allowed to tell anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that wasn’t helpful. Maybe getting him drunk would help, or perhaps asking him while he was still in a post-orgasmic high. But either of those could cause him to lose trust for Kyuhyun, especially if the relationship were precarious in the first place. So perhaps openly digging, as tempting as it could be, wouldn’t be the best route. Kyuhyun would have to find a way to let the prince give him information, without him knowing that he was giving it. Some deniability, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do these loopholes extend to the whole royal family, or have you managed to find something unique to your position?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on the loophole. Some of them could be used by most of my siblings, some of them are unique to myself and my father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The line of inheritance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince nodded. “Those of us destined to rule are given certain privileges, by virtue of our position. Deals made between the Church and the throne hundreds of years ago, long forgotten by all except those who they still directly affect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I suppose those privileges are secrets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince grinned. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun grinned in return. “You know, I think I’ll take that drink, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve come around, huh?” The prince stood, going back to his cabinet to retrieve a glass. “I thought it was too early in the morning for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I walked in here, it was too early. But I have a feeling I’m going to be here a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince smiled as he handed Kyuhyun his glass. He lifted his own glass, and Kyuhyun wordlessly clinked his glass against the prince’s–his own rim below the prince’s–and took a long sip. Bitter and sweet at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything in particular you’d like to discuss, during that while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun laughed. “I figured I could ask you how, exactly, Ryeowook came to be art in your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that,” the prince said, “is quite a topic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changmin, like Kyuhyun, was not a person that was easily made drunk. That didn’t mean that Kyuhyun wasn’t in the habit of trying, simply because Changmin was far too uptight otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Come on, one more,” Kyuhyun said, already pouring another glass out for each of them. Changmin had brought the bottle, and Kyuhyun had provided the space in his apartment. They considered it an equal exchange. “It’s not like you have anything to do tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing that requires being clear-headed, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll toast to that.” Kyuhyun took a long sip, watching approvingly as Changmin did the same. He wouldn’t normally be quite as pushy, but he wanted to get any information about Yunho he could, and he imagined Changmin would be far too tightlipped if he didn’t push him. Changmin was one of Kyuhyun’s best friends, but lovers were more loyal than friends, among scholars and nobility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yunho said you went to talk with him about Jaejoong,” Changmin said, once he’d finished his glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at least Kyuhyun wouldn’t have to be the one to bring it up. “Mm. I’m trying to work on a report about how Jaejoong came to the Church, but I’m not getting all that far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the people that actually know things won’t talk to me and the people that should know things claim not to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changmin grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Which category does Yunho fall into?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Second one. He said his best guess for what ‘changed’ with Jaejoong was that they’d started to talk more seriously about marriage, and Jaejoong just didn’t want to get married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changmin snorted. “Well, that’s one way of putting it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “Please elaborate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Changmin said, “just remember that Yunho told me this back when he was still quite broken up over the whole thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” So it would probably cast a bad light on Jaejoong, and Kyuhyun would have to piece together which parts of it were actually true. Nothing new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently Jaejoong started to seem more into it than he used to be. He’d initiate kisses, where before he’d turned them away. Stuff like that. So they were getting closer, and closer, and so on. And they slept together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Casual sex between alpha and beta members of the upper classes was common, expected even. But omegas were sacred, in a certain way. Even those outside of the Church weren’t supposed to have sex until they were wed. Omegas had a much higher chance of carrying pregnancy than beta women, especially if they’d been knotted. And an omega prince? It would’ve been a scandal, if it had gotten out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. But they were careful. No knotting, none of that. And if Jaejoong was going to marry him anyway– Well, they assumed it would be alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it wasn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we don’t know. Jaejoong joined the Church before we could find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sudden?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what Yunho said, yeah. It sounded like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that...could be one of the key pieces. Ryeowook was Jaejoong’s secret-keeper, and Ryeowook felt that being pursued by an alpha was undignified. Perhaps he’d known, somehow, and he’d told Jaejoong that he should come to the Church instead of going through with the marriage. Ryeowook’s own insecurities, projected onto Jaejoong. But Ryeowook had said that Jaejoong really was having visions, that he needed help. So there must’ve still been a missing piece, because Ryeowook wouldn’t have chosen such an easily picked-apart wording. Especially knowing that Kyuhuyn must’ve also talked with Yunho. It was too </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span> of an explanation. Ryeowook was self-aware enough not to let Kyuhyun figure it out that easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And besides, all of this was relying on Yunho telling Changmin the truth, and on Changmin telling it faithfully to Kyuhyun. Clearly Yunho had been selective in what he’d said when Kyuhyun interviewed him before. So what was to say that everything he’d told Changmin was accurate? Maybe it was closer than what he’d told Kyuhyun, the first time, but he was clearly capable of omitting information when it suited him. It wasn’t enough, on its own. Kyuhyun would have to interview Yunho again, to question him about it, and he’d still need Ryeowook to admit to his motivations. No matter what. That was the only way it wouldn’t feel like guesswork.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yunho said you’ve also been talking to the prince.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have,” Kyuhyun said. “He’s quite a character.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changmin giggled. “So I’ve heard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not necessarily in a bad way, you know, he’s just. Very particular about certain things. He has two beta lovers, and I’m mildly convinced he has two of them so that one of them is always watching. Or that he can watch them together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… He’s got an exhibitionism kink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It certainly seems like it.” Kyuhyun debated whether he should tell Changmin about Ryeowook or not. Sure, it wasn’t like Changmin would ever tell anyone–other than Yunho, perhaps–but it still felt wrong to be telling anyone. Even though the prince had been so open in telling Kyuhyun what he felt. Had he told Kyuhyun because he would’ve told anyone, or was it because the prince somehow trusted Kyuhyun? Even if only because of their shared circumstance, their shared desire to know more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he have any alpha lovers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I know of. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he said he’d choose his consort soon. I’m sure he’ll choose someone he’s already familiar with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, if he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> alphas, sure. Kyuhyun had seen him with beta men, and he’d seen how much he was attracted to Ryeowook, an omega man, but the prince had never mentioned an alpha lover, or even attraction to an alpha. Maybe he just hadn’t known the prince for a long enough time. Maybe he would walk into the prince’s rooms tomorrow and see him lounging in bed with another alpha. Or maybe alphas lay outside the realm of his attraction. Which would certainly be unfortunate for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did say he would choose based on the common good, rather than on his own interests, didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did he say that?” Changmin reached to pour himself another glass. The bottle was getting low, so it would probably be the last of the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After the last High Priestess died, when they asked one of the royal family to make a wish or promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right. I tune out for most ceremonies, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” Kyuhyun did too, for most of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be a bit amusing though, if he ended up just picking a consort based on who’s young, unmarried, and academically impressive. Like, the most stereotypical person imaginable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you thinking of someone in particular?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Changmin laughed. “I’m not about to say you, if that’s what you were thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it should’ve been, because you probably are the person who best fits that description.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fit it too,” Kyuhyun insisted. He wouldn’t let Changmin pin him into a corner even if it was, by some standard, a good corner to be in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like you do,” Changmin said. “And besides, he knows not to pick me. He already caused Yunho to lose one lover, he wouldn’t dare to take a second.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun liked being with the prince, when Donghae and Hyukjae weren’t around. Sure, the betas could be amusing, but the prince was much more open on his own. And more open meant that Kyuhyun could see the man behind the princehood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that being crown prince meant you didn’t have time to do much else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince shrugged. “When I was a child, it was true. I had to learn a million things, and there wasn’t nearly enough time to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now I get all the time in the world, at least until my father passes.” The prince laughed, and the way he looked at Kyuhyun told him that the bitterness ran deep. For what, he wasn’t sure. “That’s what I get for being too sentimental.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “Too sentimental?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. My father disapproves.” The prince stood, crossing the room to one of his dressers. He pulled out a small frame and carried it back for Kyuhyun to see. It was a painting, a miniature portrait. Though stylized, the two figures were undeniably the King and his Consort, though much younger than they were now. “They almost look not miserable, there, don’t they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun snorted. “You think they’re miserable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know they are,” the prince replied. He took his seat opposite Kyuhyun once more. “I don’t think my father’s ever met a person he actually likes, and his consort is absolutely in love with him. It’s a disaster. And a long-running one, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it he doesn’t approve of you liking people, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince laughed. “He doesn’t approve of me doing much of anything, but yes, that’s one of the things he hates. I’m ‘allowing people to exert influence’ over me. Which, apparently, is the one thing that royalty need to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it’s not the worst advice.” And also, extremely ironic advice, given why Kyuhyun spent his time day-drinking with the prince.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not talking about other nobles, or even about scholars, though. He’s talking about the Church. And he should know that– Well, he understands why that’s not a real concern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Secret, Kyu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it have to do with Ryeowook?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said it so casually, but it was so obviously true. Everything in the prince’s world seemed to be framed by Ryeowook’s presence. Even things which should’ve had nothing to do with him, the prince would conjure up his image. If he were staring at a flower, whatever variety, he would no doubt compare it to Ryeowook; if he were to think of economic policy, he would find the omega and ask his opinion, if only for an excuse to see him. The prince’s world revolved around Ryeowook, and the longer Kyuhyun spent in the prince’s orbit the more he felt drawn into the same rotation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun set the picture down on the table. “Your highness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you choose who becomes art? I know I’ve asked about Ryeowook, before, but with others. What makes someone worthy of that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worthy of it?” The prince looked off to the side. He was quiet for a moment, and Kyuhyun held his breath for fear of breaking the silence. “I suppose it’s just… A feeling. It’s not just attraction, it’s something more. A recognition that someone is beautiful, and that their beauty fits well with my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun took a deep breath. Time to risk the awkwardness. “And when you look at me, do you see that beauty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince looked up at Kyuhyun and blinked several times, as if his eyes could not believe his ears. “Do you want to be art, Kyuhyun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m willing to be. If you think I’m worthy of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince hesitated, his eyes darting from Kyuhyun’s eyes to his lips, to his arms, back to his eyes. “You’re certain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer seemed to harden his will. The prince stood, walking around the table to pull Kyuhyun to stand with him. Though Kyuhyun stood inches taller than the prince, it was the prince’s hand that held Kyuhyun’s cheek in his hand; it was the prince who guided their lips together and pressed his other hand against Kyuhyun’s neck, holding a hand over his pulse. Dominant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t feel wrong. Kyuhyun had worried, in the back of his mind, that it would feel wrong to kiss the prince. For all of his willingness to sleep with another alpha, in the abstract, he’d never committed to it in the flesh before. He’d never known what an alpha’s touch would feel like, what it would be like to be held. And though it wasn’t quite passionate, still hesitant, it felt good. Kyuhyun could almost imagine that this wasn’t to gain the prince’s trust, that, if he’d been in another situation he would’ve still gone to the prince’s embrace purely due to the other alpha’s beauty and touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I worthy, your highness?” Kyuhyun asked, when the prince pulled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prince looked at him, a little grin on his face, and he laughed. “Call me Jongwoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Kyuhyun did. They made love on Jongwoon’s bed, and Kyuhyun imagined himself at home among the red seas of silk. Kyuhyun felt Jongwoon’s breath on his neck, he held their fingers intertwined through the sweat and the sensation, and he almost began to feel like the work of art that Jongwoon no doubt wanted them to become. Beautiful, and made more so in the unison of their movements, the contrast of the prince’s tan fingers against Kyuhyun’s own lily-white chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was over he held Jongwoon in his arms, letting the shorter alpha rest his head on Kyuhyun’s shoulder. They were knotted together, and Kyuhyun did not feel demeaned by it at all. It felt right, and Kyuhyun could almost believe it felt right because it was Jongwoon. Because there was a certain fondness that had grown in Kyuhyun, from the moment he had begun to consider Jongwoon’s art. He could understand why Jongwoon pursued Ryeowook, why he always chased for the one shade of paint that would not fall easily into his collection. The most beautiful art was made with the rarest of materials, and Kyuhyun could only hope that he in any way measured up to the standard that Ryeowook had set in Jongwoon’s heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful, Kyu,” Jongwoon whispered, his lips on Kyuhyun’s neck. “I didn’t really think that an alpha could be so beautiful, but you’ve proven me wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “Why did you think that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I always thought that it would clash– Two alphas. I just thought, I guess. Omegas are beautiful, beyond beautiful. They bring life into this world, if they’re of the secular world, and if they’re in the Church they protect that life. When an alpha and an omega come together, when they create art, the marks are visible long after. They can bring a child into the world. And so omegas– It was obvious that they were beautiful. Betas were beautiful as well, in a certain way, because some of them could stand in for omegas and play the part convincingly if you focused on the mind rather than the body. They could make a space for themselves, in imitation of art. Not a masterpiece, but a beautiful copy of one. Alphas, in my mind, were harsh. Sharp lines and biting tempers. Whenever I tried to make an alpha into art, before, I could never make him understand his place within the picture. He would always rush to the center, trying to claim something more than what was set for him. He couldn’t be content with the place his beauty warranted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun traced a line on Jongwoon’s shoulder, feeling the soft shudder that came in return. “How many alpha lovers have you taken, before me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few. Not many that I remember well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even remember them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon laughed, his breath tickling the hair on Kyuhyun’s neck. “We’ve all met beautiful people at parties and only discovered their flaws when the morning light came. When the infatuation wears off, the only thing left to do is to think of them in description, not by name. Even if it were alphas that I know, that I treat as friends, I would not want to associate that friendship with the disappointment I found in my bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope I’m the exception to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, you’re in no danger of being a disappointment.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t taken much to get another meeting with Yunho, but Kyuhyun couldn’t escape the feeling that Yunho was surprised to see him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I talked to Changmin,” is the first thing that Kyuhyun said, once they’d gotten the pleasantries out of the way. He saw the twitch that crept through Yunho’s brow at the sentence, and he knew that Yunho had caught onto what he was about to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did he tell you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you leave out the fact that you’d slept with Jaejoong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho sighed, looking away. Out the window of his office, as if the outside world could offer any cover from Kyuhyun’s gaze. He swallowed, straightened his shoulders, and looked back at the scholar. “It’s true that he and I made love, once, but we made sure there would be no proof of it. No chance of a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaejoong wasn’t– We all knew that something was wrong.” Yunho took a deep breath. “He hadn’t been alright for weeks, before, but I thought I could save him. Make him better. And evidently, I made him worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean you made him worse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean he had delusions, and my behavior brought them close enough to reality that he stopped being able to distinguish them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say or how to process that. Yunho had lied so convincingly, before, not just by omission. He’d said that he’d not known anything was wrong; that Jaejoong hadn’t had any “break.” But clearly he’d lied on both accounts. Why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was–” Yunho sighed once more. “Look, Kyuhyun. Jaejoong’s been through enough. Plenty of people in the upper classes, outside of the Church, they think he’s insane. And whether he’s really as insane as they think or not, he doesn’t deserve to be speculated about when he’s not there to refute it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m trying to write an honest history–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sometimes honesty will only make things worse.” Yunho took a deep breath, his eyes locked with Kyuhyun’s. The lord’s hand was quivering on his desk, the small tremble continuing up his arm and through the whole body. “I wanted to cooperate with you, to do everything I could to be honest while still honoring him. But you know what people would think if I admitted to you that I’d made love to him before our marriage. There are a hundred insults quietly whispered about Jaejoong, ‘whore’ doesn’t need to be added to the list.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What am I supposed to do then, am I supposed to just leave it out of the history even though it’s so obviously the piece that holds the rest of the puzzle together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If your whole report relies on that, perhaps you should consider abandoning the piece altogether.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun didn’t know how to answer that. Never before, when he’d been chasing after a story, had he been told not to write it, not to chase further and further until he understood it inside and out. He’d been taught to tear apart lies until he found the truth, no matter how ugly. But those reports had been literary commentaries, historical commentaries, they’d had nothing to do with the living, breathing people who shared a time and place with him. The characters of this story, Jaejoong the most prominent among them, were still here to face the consequences of whatever he wrote.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d planned to delay its publishing,” Kyuhyun said, when he’d gathered his thoughts into something resembling a response. “My goal isn’t to write some kind of exposé and paint Jaejoong as a whore, my only goal is that scholars in the future will know the truth of what happened. And that includes your relationship to him. If you want me not to publish it until both you and he are dead, that’s fine. I’ll put it off as long as you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s still–” Yunho looked down at his hands. “Even when this life has passed on, don’t you think his image will live on? That he could still be hurt by it, even in his absence? It would be even worse, then, because he would be eternally unable to defend himself from the accusations that would follow, even if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> weren’t the one to make them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yunho, I can’t lose this piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true, and you know it. You’re afraid to lose it, sure, but you’re perfectly capable of doing it. You’re an accomplished scholar, and I have no doubt you can find something else to make into your masterpiece. Don’t use Jaejoong to improve your own image.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter what you’re trying. That’s still what you’re doing, intentional or not. The fact that you find it so hard to accept is– It’s just baffling. You clearly don’t understand your own profession and its effects.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there it was. The shift from attacking his work to attacking him. Kyuhyun knew this was a battle he couldn’t win, not with a nobleman. No amount of being in Jongwoon’s favors or being a famed scholar could save him from the bite of an insult served by a noble, were he to take it to the law. The law would take a noble’s word over a scholar’s, every time. Kyuhyun had no choice but to back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yunho turned back to the papers on his desk, picking up the pen from where he’d left in when Kyuhyun had entered the room half an hour before. “Kyuhyun, if you don’t have anything productive to say, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And do you have anything productive to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not right now, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you should go. And just– Please. Leave Jaejoong and I’s love out of your report, if you choose to persist in writing it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spending afternoons in Jongwoon’s bed led, inevitably, to spending nights in Jongwoon’s bed. And nights inevitably faded into mornings, and Kyuhyun found himself falling asleep and waking up to the quiet rumble of Jongwoon’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was after a few weeks of this pattern that Kyuhyun awoke to another voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My demands are non-negotiable, I’ve told you that. Either you agree to them or not, and we go from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon’s answer came quickly. “I’m not opposed to them in principle, you know that. But it will be hard to do it, in practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so hard? Not sleeping with anyone other than me or your consort, is that so hard for you to commit to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not the one I’m talking about. Ryeowook, please. Just hear me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While my father is still alive, he controls everything that happens within this palace. And that includes the administration of his grandchildren. I don’t want you to be separated from them, but I just can’t control that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just two months with them, is that too much to ask him for?” Ryeowook’s voice cracked. Kyuhyun peeked his eyes open, careful not to look awake in case either of the two were looking his way. They were sitting on the floor, not far from where they were sitting on the first day Kyuhyun had seen them together. Knees touched together, and Ryeowook’s hands clutched in Jongwoon’s. “Is he that cruel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know he is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but…” The words died on Ryeowook’s lips. Whatever thought he was going to voice, he must’ve decided that it wasn’t worth saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, we can figure something out.” Jongwoon reached out, placing one of his hands on Ryeowook’s shoulder. “We might have to follow his rules while he’s still alive, but we can change them once he’s passed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how long will that take? Years? Decades?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too long. I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked down at his lap. “There are some things he can’t control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those things, we’ll stick to those. As a promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beginnings of a hopeful smile crept to Jongwoon’s eyes. “We will?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded, but he didn’t return the smile, nor the hope. “We will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile grew wider, until it stretched across Jongwoon’s cheeks. He brought a hand up to grace a finger over Ryeowook’s cheekbone, resting it at his temple. He didn’t lean forward, didn’t kiss him, but his eyes said it all. In love. That was how Jongwoon looked, when he was in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready for it, now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook’s brows ruffled. “Don’t you still need to pick your consort?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know who I’m going to pick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Jongwoon had already chosen, then. Kyuhyun felt a weight settle in his stomach, and it felt dangerously like disappointment. He didn’t want to think too hard about why the emotion was there. Yes, he’d slept with Jongwoon a dozen times, and heard his rambling stories a dozen times more, but that didn’t make him in love with the other alpha. Did it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you asked him yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I wanted to make sure that you were ready before I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Jongwoon had been waiting to ask, that was just more proof that it wasn’t Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun had only come far enough into his orbit to warrant consideration within the past few months, the past few weeks if he was being strict about it. Jongwoon should’ve chosen a while before, weeks if not months before Kyuhyun had met him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should ask him soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember my demands, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’ll talk to Heechul and Jungsoo later this afternoon if he says yes, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Ryeowook stood, brushed himself off, and took a deep breath. “I’ll see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook left, and Jongwoon returned to the bed. He sat down at Kyuhyun’s side and began to run his fingers through Kyuhyun’s hair. Though Kyuhyun’s eyes were barely open, he knew he’d been caught watching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Ryeowook come often, in the mornings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. He likes to come and pray with me, usually a little before dawn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t sound much like praying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon laughed. “Not today, no. How much did you hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the last few minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you heard about my search for my consort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun felt his heart still in his chest. He didn’t want to hear the next few sentences, he didn’t want to know how this would end. Because the probability that Jongwoon had chosen someone else, combined with Ryeowook’s insistence that Jongwoon have no outside lovers–it didn’t bode well for Kyuhyun staying in Jongwoon’s bed for much longer. And that was an ache in his chest that Kyuhyun wasn’t prepared to confront. “I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you say then?” Jongwoon had a little smile on his face, and Kyuhyun could swear that he looked almost fond of him. Almost in the same way that he was fond of Ryeowook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Kyu, you know what I mean.” Jongwoon’s hand settled on Kyuhyun’s side, brushing along the skin beneath his ribs. It tickled, but when Jongwoon was looking at him like that, Kyuhyun couldn’t bring himself to care. “Yes or no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course, you. You’re the only alpha I’ve ever made into art. And besides, even before I actually met you, you were always on the lists of possibilities my advisors wrote. You fit every qualification, and I enjoy you as well. Why wouldn’t I choose you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I– Okay.” Kyuhyun took a deep breath. Where just moments before, he’d felt like his heart would turn to stone, he now felt it beating out of his chest in anticipation. He would be Jongwoon’s consort. All he had to do was say yes. “Yes, of course, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Jongwoon said, and he leaned forward to kiss Kyuhyun. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but it didn’t have to be. It wasn’t long, anyway, before Jongwoon pulled back to speak once more. “Ryeowook did have one of his demands that involved you, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” So that’s what that last exchange was about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wants you to stop digging into Jaejoong’s history. He knows so much about it, and he wants to be able to trust you. He wouldn’t be able to trust you if he was always worried you were trying to get information out of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun blinked. “I… I’m glad Ryeowook wants to trust me, but what does his umm, whatever this is, have to do with me? You said this loophole only works for you–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when you’re my consort we’ll be one soul, in the eyes of the Church. Which means it will apply to you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Well. That’s definitely something that Jongwoon could’ve bothered to mention before. “So, I’m–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going to be allowed to sleep with him too, yes. Which means that you have to agree to his demands. That one’s the only one that really applies to you, directly, unless you have any other secret lovers I need to know about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun laughed. “No, I was a lonely bastard before we met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon’s laugh echoed Kyuhyun’s. “Lovely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that still leaves the real question here. Is Kyuhyun willing to let go of his investigation? He wanted to know about Jaejoong and what happened, but maybe Yunho was right. Maybe leaving it alone–for Jaejoong’s sake and for Ryeowook’s–would be for the best. Perhaps he would learn about what had happened from Ryeowook, years down the line, and he would be content in knowing but not publishing. He would have to be. For his sake, for Jongwoon’s sake, for Ryeowook’s sake, and most of all for Jaejoong’s sake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would learn to be okay with letting it go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m dropping my current research.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Han Geng didn’t look surprised, and he only barely looked disappointed. On the whole, not the worst reaction Kyuhyun could’ve hoped for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been given another opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another opportunity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Kyuhyun sat down and took a deep breath. “My efforts to get close to the prince have paid off in a different way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng raised an eyebrow, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. “When’s the wedding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A month and a half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That quick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun laughed. He’d been surprised too. “Apparently they had it all planned in advance, just needed to know who and when. Everything else was more or less arranged.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose they’re focused more on the religious aspects of it than allowing the lords from the outskirts to attend, then. Which should be absolutely miserable for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad it’s happening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun nodded. As odd as it sounded, even as it would’ve sounded to himself only a few months before, he wanted to be with Jongwoon. “I trust the prince.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you do. But what does this have to do with ending your current research? Being his consort would put you in a better position to do the research, not a worse one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t tell Han Geng the truth. As much as his mentor knew–especially by virtue of knowing Heechul–he was still only the guest in the Church’s home. However Ryeowook was involved in this, through this loophole, it was one of those secrets, one of those rooms that guests aren’t shown. And if Kyuhyun was to gain Ryeowook’s trust, something he knew he needed to do, then he couldn’t share anything. He needed to think of a different excuse, one that wouldn’t share Ryeowook’s involvement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s the prince’s brother,” Kyuhyun said, once he’d gathered his thoughts. “And now that I’m part of that family, I feel a need to protect him and his secrets. There are things that I learned that probably shouldn’t be made public.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even posthumously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Han Geng bit his lip, and then nodded. “I’m glad you’ve made up your mind. At least you’ve come out of this better than you went into it. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t need to worry,” Kyuhyun said. “The prince is a gentle soul.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His father isn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill ran through him, because he knew that it was true. From what Jongwoon had told him, from the things Ryeowook had said when he thought Kyuhyun wasn’t listening, he knew that the King was a cruel man. If Kyuhyun had dug in the wrong places, if he’d chosen to interview the King instead of his son– Kyuhyun may have ended up in a much worse position than the one he’d landed in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m lucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you need to remember that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Kyuhyun took a deep breath. “The prince doesn’t have much control over things, but he has a right to choose his consort. And now that he’s chosen me, he can keep me safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As he should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a few minutes, as if there were nothing to say. There were a million things that could’ve been said, but none of them seemed to fit. It was not everyday that someone became the prince’s consort, and it was not everyday that a mentor found himself outranked by his pupil. Things would change, and both of them would learn to accept that. To fall out of the patterns that they had long ago accepted as normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure the prince is leading you through a million lessons on etiquette,” Han Geng said, to break the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A million might be an exaggeration, but a few, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything interesting in those lessons?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Kyuhyun doubted there would be much he could say, even if he did learn something interesting. The royals were as much of a pile of secrets as the Church was, and the deeper you dug the more secrets you found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll let me know if there’s anything interesting. That you’re allowed to tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That might be difficult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Han Geng sighed. “I wish you the best, Kyuhyun. Just. Stay safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Ryeowook been, lately?” Kyuhyun asked, on one of the afternoons that he was given a break from the constant etiquette and royal history lessons. They were taking another walk through the palace gardens, and he couldn’t help but feel like Jongwoon was more somber than normal. “I feel like I haven’t seen him in weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t,” Jongwoon said. He looked down at the water beneath the bridge, but even at that angle Kyuhyun could see that he was biting his lip. Tense. “Part of the loophole. He has to be kept in seclusion for a month before our wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… This loophole isn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>open</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me, it’s–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dependent on the consort, yes.” Jongwoon sighed. “I should probably explain this all to you. It’s your secret to keep as well, at this point. And I’m sure you’re frustrated about being kept in the dark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… Once I tell you this, if you back out from our engagement, you’ll be held as a threat to the kingdom’s security. Which means my father could have you executed. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well that was certainly an escalation. But he was going to know anyway, and there was no way he was backing out of this now. “I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon took a deep breath. “Where do you think royal children come from, Kyuhyun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was always told that the King’s children were the goddess’ children. Which really isn’t an explanation, but it was the only one given in any record I could find.” It really didn’t logically make sense, but when the sources ran out, sometimes you had to accept the illogical as truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only records you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>allowed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find,” Jongwoon corrected. “The real records exist, but only the line of inheritance and the Church’s secret-keepers are allowed to access them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do the real records say, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let’s start from the history. You know the history of the war, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Between the Church and the nobility?” It was practically the first thing children were taught when they open up a history book. The Church had once been much more aggressive than it was now. Entire villages would wake up to discover their omegas taken in the night and brought into the Church’s ranks, armed and trained to fight against the kingdom’s armies. They would not fight traditionally, as that was not their strength, but they would fight in the dark, from a distance, or when their attacks wouldn’t be suspected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon nodded. “And you know the treaty that ended it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the Church was limited to only taking omegas who consented to joining, and I know that the Church and royal line came into union.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And do you know how that union was born?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The goddess’ children became the heirs to the throne. The king, before the war, took omegas and beta women as consorts and concubines. They would have children in the same way as anyone else. But after the peace treaty, the king had to take an </span>
  <em>
    <span>alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span> consort instead, and the children would be born from a single, holy concubine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun felt a chill on the back of his neck. “Ryeowook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Jongwoon looked down at the water once more. “The nobility won the war. And they took their tribute. Each member of the direct line of succession is allowed to choose one omega, close to their own age, to be held in secrecy and seclusion for the purpose of bearing the next generation of royal children. And the chosen omega gets no real choice in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you said that Ryeowook was–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being stubborn, yes. Like I said, I refuse to force him into anything. I told him I wanted to choose him; he, being a secret-keeper, knew exactly what it meant and told me that his agreement came with conditions attached. He–” Jongwoon took a deep breath. “He wasn’t just a secret-keeper, Kyuhyun, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my mother’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> secret-keeper. He knew everything she went through, and he couldn’t– He didn’t want to be like that. So he tried to set rules to make sure that it wouldn’t turn out that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you agreed to them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the ones that are in my power to follow, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun swallowed. “And those are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No outside lovers. Visiting him at least once a week, and having actual conversations with him while there. No physical punishments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those seemed very… baseline. The fact that Ryeowook felt the need to include them certainly spoke to how apprehensive he was. “And the ones you couldn’t agree to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allowing him to keep his children with him after birth, at least until they’re a few months old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mother wasn’t–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We were all taken from her within days of our birth, raised by nursemaids and by our father’s consort. Well, for all we know he could be our biological father. I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harsh? Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see why Ryeowook would be so stubborn in refusing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon laughed, but it was harsh, restrained. “He’s stubborn in everything, but yes. I can’t exactly blame him for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun bit his lip. “He’s looking forward to it, though, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know. I hope he is, but.” Jongwoon took a deep breath and looked back up to meet Kyuhyun’s eyes. There was a forced smile, a forced happiness that came to his eyes, and Kyuhyun could tell that his heart wasn’t resting easy on the subject. “We’ll make it work. Come on, wasn’t there an orchard you wanted to see? We should go and–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jongwoon.” Kyuhyun reached out to touch his lover’s cheek. “Don’t worry so much. Please. We’ll get through this, all three of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know we will, but. It’s hard not to...to feel wrong, somehow. Like I’ve done the wrong thing again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A marriage is more than just a union of the body, it is a union of the soul.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun knelt opposite Jongwoon, their hands knotted together with ribbons around their wrists. The entire clergy of the Capital Basilica was gathered, watching them, and most of the nobility who’d been able to clear their schedules were packed among the pews. Kyuhyun’s own family were in his usual position: ten rows back. He couldn’t see them from the altar, and he doubted they could see him very well either. But social position couldn’t be violated, not even on one’s wedding day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the union of two souls; one of royal blood, a son of the goddess Herself, and the other of scholarly lineage, knowledgeable of Her world, their union brings together the two great traditions of our nation and renews its peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The High Priestess was watching over the ceremony, but she did not lead it. That job fell to Heechul and Jungsoo, as head of the basilica and head of the diocese, respectfully. Jungsoo was a better orator than Heechul, and so he read the ceremonial texts and vows as Heechul made sure that the knots around their wrists were tight and that their foreheads never remained dry of holy water for long. The rhythmic flick of holy water against Kyuhyun’s forehead and scalp was far from comfortable, but he imagined that Han Geng, from his place in the audience, was having a fun time watching Heechul disdainfully flick the water at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For our nation, and for its future; for the goddess’ children, and for all who are illuminated by Her light; these two souls shall be bound together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From now, until the world ends,” Kyuhyun whispered, in unison with Jongwoon and with the clergy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The choir began to sing. With help from Heechul to keep their balance, the newly wedded pair rose, turning, their hands still tied together, to face the choir. It was closer than Kyuhyun had ever been to them, but he could easily pick out the empty seat among their ranks where Ryeowook would’ve stood. There were no other empty seats, no other remnants of an ugly truth. How long would it be before they forgot him, how long would it be before his seat was taken and his part replaced?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were led out of the basilica by a parade of novices, and then they were escorted by servants back to Jongwoon’s rooms within the palace. They were not allowed to untie or cut the rope until they had returned to their own rooms, and only then for the sake of consummating their marriage. As if they had not consummated it a dozen times before. Marriage ceremonies, and every tradition they entailed, were not made for the marriage of two alphas. This type of wedding, once-a-generation rare, was only given vow modifications to recognize the difference. All other traditions, even as little as they applied, were kept unchanged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They each untied the knots on each other’s wrists, and Kyuhyun looked Jongwoon in the eye, and he saw the fondness, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> reflected back in them. How improbable, that real love would be reflected back at him, but it was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Kyuhyun whispered into the skin of Jongwoon’s chest, over and over, as the sun marked noon. “I love you. My alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as absurd as it might’ve sounded, one alpha whispering that title to another, Jongwoon whispered it right back. “My alpha,” Jongwoon breathed into Kyuhyun’s neck, when he was knotted inside Kyuhyun and the whole world felt a little slower than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world seemed, for a few short hours, to be filled with nothing but the two of them, laying together in the afternoon sun and whispering affections until the blush came. Maybe they could stay like this, in this quiet moment, and the duties and dangers which bound them wouldn’t intrude. They were two, in that moment, not three, and the world felt a little more simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the sun set, an unease settled in Kyuhyun’s chest. It had been there earlier in the day, but it did not weigh as heavy before the moment was approaching on them. A servant brought Jongwoon the key on a silver platter. The key was plated in gold, but clearly not made of gold all the way through. It would not be solid, durable enough if it were. Perhaps it had been recently re-plated–the key was centuries old, after all, as old as this wing of the palace and the tradition of taking one of the Church’s omegas as concubine. It would not gleam so perfectly if it were not cared for and re-plated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Kyu.” Jongwoon held a hand out, waiting for the alpha to leave his place on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to keep him all to yourself for the first night, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon laughed as Kyuhyun walked over to him. “He told me he’d expect both of us on the first night, and I know he’s planning something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun followed Jongwoon down the hall, to the little door that he’d passed what felt like a million times over the previous month. One guard was stationed next to the door, and he nodded at Jongwoon as the prince walked forward to insert the key into the lock. Kyuhyun felt his heart beat, once, twice, and then the lock clicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room inside was small, just long enough for someone to lay down and not hit their head or feet along the circular walls. Along the far wall, an altar and statue of the goddess surveyed the room, lit by candles. On the left side of the room, the wall gave way to stairs leading down into another room, but otherwise the room was perfectly self-contained. Ryeowook knelt before the altar, head down and locked in prayer. While he still wore the robes of a priest, Kyuhyun could see clearly that his sleeves were white, not red. No longer a secret-keeper. As the two alphas entered the room, the door clicking shut behind them, Ryeowook finished his prayers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your highness.” Ryeowook didn’t turn to look at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ryeowook.” Jongwoon sat down at Ryeowook’s side, taking one of the omega’s hands in his. “It’s good to see you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded, once, abruptly. Too quick, unnatural. Nervous. He met Jongwoon’s gaze for half a second before he turned to Kyuhyun. Purple eyes stared at Kyuhyun in the candle light, as commanding as ever and yet so, so anxious. Scared, even, as if he was trying to get air into his lungs but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. Far from the fearless secret-keeper that he had been not months before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You prepared something for us, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook turned back to Jongwoon, nodding once more. He blinked and took a deep breath. “Yes. Come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up and turned to the stairs on the left of the room. He began to pull at his robes, leaving himself undressed before the alphas’ eyes. He had soft curves the way most omegas did, accentuated by fading muscles. With only the small room he’d been given, no doubt the muscles would fade further over the years from disuse. Still, the combination of muscle and fat–a combination that manifested in this way only in male omegas–was a feast for Kyuhyun’s eyes. He’d known the lust Jongwoon felt toward Ryeowook, had heard the other alpha’s fantasies hundreds of times, but as his eyes fell on Ryeowook’s form he couldn’t help but feel the same lust. It was a hunger, not like one feels when starving, but the hunger one feels immediately before devouring a feast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook began to descend the stairs. The room he was entering, Kyuhyun saw as he took a step forward, was little more than a large bath; the alcove was filled entirely with water aside from shelves on the side with candles and bottles of oils. When Ryeowook was waist deep in the water, he turned back to the alphas. He bit his lip. “Aren’t you going to join me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun glanced at Jongwoon. Seeing the older alpha begin to disrobe, Kyuhyun followed suit. Kyuhyun doubted it was the first time Ryeowook had seen either of them naked. Given how many times Ryeowook had prayed with Jongwoon early in the mornings, while Kyuhyun was still asleep in Jongwoon’s bed, the omega would’ve had to make an effort to avert his eyes. He didn’t blink an eye, in the moment, and so Kyuhyun doubted he’d made the effort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alphas descended the stairs and waded into the water side by side. Jongwoon moved forward to drag his thumb over Ryeowook’s cheek, and Kyuhyun hung back along the side of the room. As much as he knew that he was nearly equal to Jongwoon in this, he knew that it would never be quite the same. Jongwoon had </span>
  <em>
    <span>chosen</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ryeowook, and he had done it for a reason. Kyuhyun, for as much as he could look at both the omega and the other alpha with lust or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>love,</span>
  </em>
  <span> could not claim to have chosen Ryeowook in that way. Incidental to each other, that’s what they were. Each of them chosen, but not having chosen the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t kiss me,” Ryeowook whispered, “not yet. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When can I kiss you, then?” Jongwoon’s thumb lingered on Ryeowook’s cheek, his eyes locked with the omega’s. His eyes burned a quiet, warm red. Alpha warmth, so rare and intense that Ryeowook’s cold purple gaze seemed almost apathetic in comparison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once you’ve been blessed.” Ryeowook took a step back, dunking himself underwater. When he emerged, a few seconds later, he seemed to have a bit more of a glow to him. Probably just the candle light reflecting against the droplets of water lingering on his wet skin and hair, but it seemed almost mystical nonetheless. “The water’s from the holy river. You need to be submerged in it for eight continuous seconds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon nodded. He turned to Kyuhyun, and Kyuhyun saw the same alpha warmth reflected back at him as was turned toward Ryeowook before. Jongwoon reached out a hand, and the younger alpha took it. With a shared glance to Ryeowook, the two alphas took deep breaths and let themselves fall back into the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun could swear it must be an illusion, perhaps the candles playing tricks on him, but from beneath the water everything seemed to hold a violet tint, both the water itself and everything that it touched.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook’s fingers pressed against Kyuhyun’s forehead, lightly holding him beneath the water. The hold was light, not displaying any real force, but Kyuhyun could not help the amusement that passed through him at the touch. That would certainly be one way to die, drowned by the only omega he’d ever seriously considered fucking.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Three.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon’s hand seemed so solid against his own, when they submerged, but after mere seconds the feeling faded away. Ryeowook’s touch remained solid, present, but Jongwoon disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Four.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he feel something for Ryeowook? Did he?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Five.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, not in the way he felt toward Jongwoon. After all, he’d had months of shared secrets and kiss-bitten sunrises to fall in love with the other alpha. Ryeowook was just–something else altogether. Incidental. Not worth loving, not in the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Six.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see himself feeling that way, though, if he imagined it. Sure, he didn’t share secrets or trust with the omega now, but he could see the possibility. If Jongwoon trusted Ryeowook enough to choose him for this, surely Ryeowook was worth trusting.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seven.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Was trust all that mattered, though? Was trust a suitable substitute for uncontrollable, unexplainable affection? Could Kyuhyun, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>taken</span>
  </em>
  <span> with another alpha, feel that kind of affection for an omega?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook’s touch disappeared, and Kyuhyun and Jongwoon surged back to the surface. Kyuhyun took a deep breath of the same air, and he felt somehow different. The air rose and fell differently in his lungs, and he could feel a different pull in the air as Jongwoon and Ryeowook stood beside him. It was not the same pull of attraction, although that one was certainly still there, but it was something different. Something less of the human world and more of the spiritual world that Kyuhyun would always deny belief in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked up at Jongwoon, laying his thumb on the alpha’s cheek, and for the first time, Kyuhyun saw something resembling affection in the omega’s eyes. “It worked,” he said, as if awestruck. “They’re glowing again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are?” Jongwoon turned to Kyuhyun. “Kyu, look at my eyes. Are they–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” It was hard to see, in a room that was bright enough already, but there was a soft glow coming from his red eyes, the same kind of glow that came from Ryeowook’s eyes and the eyes of all the omegas who lay within the Church’s reach. “What does it– How–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means we’re blessed,” Ryeowook said. “Your eyes are glowing too, Kyuhyun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blessed. Ryeowook had said it, before they’d been dunked in the water, but Kyuhyun had just assumed it was ceremonial. To think that it really changed them, that it changed the way their eyes reflected light– There must’ve been some kind of explanation that wasn’t the goddess, but in that moment Kyuhyun couldn’t find one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you now?” Jongwoon asked, turning back to Ryeowook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon touched Ryeowook’s cheek once more as he leaned in to kiss the omega. It was sweeter than Kyuhyun would’ve expected, knowing how Jongwoon kissed, but it was possessive nonetheless. The older alpha’s hand curled around Ryeowook’s bare waist, and as they kissed, once, twice, over and over again, Kyuhyun could begin to smell the arousal in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook backed away from the kiss, gently pushing away Jongwoon’s hands as he turned to Kyuhyun. He had a hesitance in his eyes, but that didn’t stop him from putting a hand on Kyuhyun’s neck, thumb hovering over his pulse point. That wasn’t the way that an omega would normally touch an alpha. Alphas would often hold their lovers in that way, whether beta, omega, or even a particularly submissive alpha. To hold someone by the neck, finger over their pulse, was to hold power over them. Not a violent power, not as if one were to choke one’s partner if they disobeyed, but an unspoken, eternal power. A recognition of the imbalance. It was a power that omegas could rarely establish, at least over alphas. But as Ryeowook held Kyuhyun’s neck, just for that moment, Kyuhyun couldn’t say that it felt wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook had to lean up and into the kiss, and if they’d been on land instead of water he may well have fallen into Kyuhyun’s arms. Kyuhyun was hesitant to touch him, hesitant to lay any hand on him. Ryeowook could lay whatever hand on Kyuhyun he desired, but Kyuhyun felt that if he did the same he would be betraying Jongwoon’s trust. For as much as the older alpha had told him, time and again, that their souls and their claim to Ryeowook were as equal as if they had been a single soul, Kyuhyun couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Powerless, before his prince and his priest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Ryeowook </span>
  <em>
    <span>chose </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, was choosing him in that moment. He chose, not to cling to Jongwoon and only allow Kyuhyun to play with what Jongwoon left behind; he chose to give Kyuhyun the same as what Jongwoon had been given. Even though Ryeowook had known Jongwoon for so much longer, even though he undoubtedly trusted Jongwoon far more than Kyuhyun. Maybe it was the mental calculus that Kyuhyun had been doing that was now reflected in Ryeowook’s eyes, a simple realization that the two of them were meant for each other because they were meant for Jongwoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun was the first to let go, first to take a step back, because he knew that Jongwoon would be waiting. Jongwoon could talk for hours, languidly laying out whatever idea had come across his head in the unspeakable hours of the night, but he was impatient when it came to waiting for others’ time. Ryeowook must’ve understood, because he took both of them by the hand, leading them out of the water. They were to consummate it on the cold stone floor, then, with the goddess’ gemstone eyes never leaving them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Ryeowook would not leave Kyuhyun as an afterthought, it was inevitable that he would have to wait. Jongwoon was still prince, still the older alpha, still the more dominant one among them. Ryeowook let go of Kyuhyun’s hand; he let Kyuhyun sit and wait mere inches away as Jongwoon took him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still a virgin,” Jongwoon said, seconds before he made it otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you think I lied to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon didn’t answer. Ryeowook’s sharp gasp, the hand that tangled in Jongwoon’s hair, they spoke more clearly than any words Jongwoon could’ve said. Ryeowook and Jongwoon didn’t speak, didn’t cry out each other’s names or profess love into each other’s skin. It wouldn’t have felt real if they had. Ryeowook wouldn’t have thought it real. Even though Jongwoon had looked at Ryeowook with the deepest love and affection a million times, Ryeowook had never once returned it. Ryeowook was a mystery, and the idea that he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jongwoon was unthinkable. Ryeowook did not </span>
  <em>
    <span>love,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was not the subject. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved,</span>
  </em>
  <span> loved by Jongwoon and made anew in the taking of that love. Art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Jongwoon hit his climax, the pulses of his hips becoming shorter and quicker to account for his knot, Ryeowook turned his head. A quick glance, unnoticed by the older alpha, but there all the same. Ryeowook’s eyes locked with Kyuhyun’s, and his eyes were clear. Lucid. Not marred with lust or pleasure but simply clear. Not empty, either, his eyes were not absent in the way that those in their own head are. He was looking at Kyuhyun, he was staring into Kyuhyun’s soul, and he was judging what he saw behind Kyuhyun’s eyes. He must’ve seen the lust, the jealousy, the surge of feeling that Kyuhyun had that he wanted to be in Jongwoon’s place. And perhaps, if Ryeowook could read him well, he would see the anxiety buried beneath the </span>
  <em>
    <span>alpha.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A peace settled over them, as they waited for Jongwoon’s knot to go down. It was an unstable peace, one where the tension seemed to radiate into the bones. Jongwoon seemed to be the only one unaware. He’d already </span>
  <em>
    <span>gotten his,</span>
  </em>
  <span> though, so perhaps he was so caught in his own mind that he couldn’t read the air. Ryeowook was clearly trying to please the alpha, drawing a gentle hand through his hair and pressing his lips against the alpha’s ear. His eyes were still stuck on Kyuhyun, still watching the way that Kyuhyun watched him. If Jongwoon had been sitting in Kyuhyun’s place, would Ryeowook placate him in the same way? Would Ryeowook stare into Jongwoon’s soul, doubting everything he found there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was over, when Kyuhyun’s turn came, Jongwoon seemed to fade from Kyuhyun’s awareness. Ryeowook was all that existed, in that moment, as he crawled into Kyuhyun’s lap and made himself at home. Ryeowook held Kyuhyun’s face in his hands, fingers once more dancing over Kyuhyun’s pulse. He didn’t kiss him, not this time, just kept their eyes locked together as he brought their bodies into union.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook held such an easy control over him. How was it, that Ryeowook could see everything behind Kyuhyun’s eyes? How was it, that he knew Kyuhyun would bend beneath his touch? Even as an alpha, even in playing a dominant role he so rarely filled, Kyuhyun felt powerless beneath Ryeowook’s gaze and beneath his touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook held every part of Kyuhyun in his hand. He knew him, just by seeing the look in his eyes. And Kyuhyun– Kyuhyun could see nothing at all behind the eyes of the omega in his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part 2: Ryeowook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter's a bit darker than the first one, there's mentions of (but no explicit portrayals of) abuse and rape, as well as some light suicidal ideation.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kim Ryeowook was born in a seaside village in the outskirts of an empire past its prime, though he was not to know that until long after. Little information from the outside world ever filtered into the village, and what did came through the Church.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The village, small as it was, only had need of a single chapel. It was a small building, with one room for worship and a few backrooms devoted to supporting the two old priestesses who’d lived in the village for as long as Ryeowook could remember. The chapel was the only building in the village that never seemed to be falling apart: typhoons struck, waves crashed, and the winds of time blew old homes to dust; but the chapel never seemed to lose even a hint of its gleam. The stones, mortar, and glass all seemed to be perfectly placed, indestructible, as if the goddess Herself had descended from the heavens to build the little chapel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As beautiful as the chapel was, Ryeowook never spent much time there outside of holy days. The sea called to him, and he couldn’t disobey. He would run along the beaches in the mornings, covering every inch of his body and clothes in sand that never seemed to wash off. In the afternoons, he would convince his uncles to let him go fishing with them. He would sit in the back of the boat, unable to hold a net long enough or stably enough to be of much help, but he would watch the water all the same. Fish swam inches beneath the surface, scales reflecting the pale sunlight as little bubbles of air floated to the surface. Dragonflies would land only inches away, fluttering down onto the paddles or even onto the boat itself, resting there for however long they wished before they would fly away, unhindered by any concerns. In the evenings, Ryeowook would lay on the rocks on the beach, look up at the setting sun, and listen to the sound of a million creatures singing in unison with the wind. Free.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook was taught the bare minimum of how to read: 200 characters, enough to read the signs at the village market and a good base of learning if they were wrong about his subgender. He was brought to work with his father and uncles, with the other alphas and betas of the village, but he was brought along in the way that all children are. So that they can see work for how it is, so they can learn the easiest tasks and, if they do turn out to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloomers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they can learn to appreciate the work their alpha does. When the adults really wanted Ryeowook to work, it was under the kind, if strict, hand of his mother. Sewing, cooking, cleaning, looking after the hens and rabbits. It was the kind of work suitable for a young omega. Any boy that had a stature and a demeanor like Ryeowook’s was destined to be an omega.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, all the years he had known his fate in advance did nothing to prepare him for the week of agony. It was a localized pain, but it pulsed throughout his bloodstream, making every moment unbearable. He could not move even a finger, lest the pain would get worse. Blooming. How beautiful a word for a process so painful. As painful as it was physically, the psychological pain was worse. Omegas were not </span>
  <em>
    <span>people,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not in the way that alphas and betas were. Alphas, betas, and unpresented children could do as they like, swim in the ocean and watch the stars. Omegas were controlled. Kept in the homes of their fathers, then in the homes of their alpha spouses. Never to stray, never to betray. To even be allowed to visit the chapel was a gift, and not one that married omegas were often afforded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unmarried, virgin omegas were worth a fortune in livestock; the richer families of the village would even pay with what gold and jewels they’d come to own. In the haze of his presentation, Ryeowook could hear his father in the living room, already negotiating his betrothal. Selling him. Ryeowook knew what fate waited for him when the pain passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s why he ran. While the pain still pulsed through him, he pulled himself up onto shaking legs, and he ran to the chapel. He collapsed only a few feet from the altar, in front of a statue of the goddess, and he cried through his prayers. The goddess’ eyes, painted a sweet purple like the eyes of an omega, looked down at him with a pitying gaze. The eyes that he saw, when he felt a hand on his back and an old, gentle voice asking him what was wrong, those eyes were as purple as the goddess’, as purple as his own. And her eyes–they were glowing. “Why are you crying, my child?” the priestess asked, framing his cheeks in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be married,” Ryeowook said, voice shaking with the rest of him. “Please. Please. That can’t be my life, it can’t be–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It won’t be.” Her thumb brushed over his cheek, swiping away the tears that pooled there. “The goddess has seen your pain. The Church will take care of you, my child. You’re safe here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They kept him hidden, for the months afterward. The two of them kept an ever-watchful eye on him, in the light of day and the dark of night. The older priestess, the one who had spoken to him that first day, was reserved and watchful, but unendingly sympathetic to her young charge. She would ask him about his past and his family, only nodding and taking notes of his responses. When he would say something worthy of sympathy–</span>
  <em>
    <span>“my aunt, she was an omega, and whenever I saw her she had bruises on her wrists”</span>
  </em>
  <span>–she would quietly take his hand, holding him gently until the emotion passed. The younger priestess, though only younger by perhaps a decade, was more open in her sympathy. Whether in sharing sorrow or joy, she could always be found with a comforting word and a light smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them were close. It was through them that Ryeowook first saw the  concept of </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Church as family.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The chapel and the village which surrounded it may have been little, but both priestesses would have balked at the idea of only having one priestess serving the village. Who would share in their concerns, in their prayers and their debates, if not for a fellow priestess? It was not rare for them to express physical affection, either, with hand-holding being commonplace and kisses far from rare. They slept in the same bed, as well, a few feet away from Ryeowook’s own mat. One day, once he had been fully accepted into the Church, he would be allowed to sleep in communion as they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The younger priestess taught him how to read and write, both the common language and the language of the Church. She told Ryeowook to call her “sister,” because they were all the goddess’ children. “When you get to the capital,” she would say, after hours of reading through scripture, “you will be blessed. You’ll be cleansed in the waters of the holy river, just like I was when I was your age.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And once I’m cleansed–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your soul will be made whole again. No alpha will be able to touch you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook didn’t stop at reading scripture, in the months that he was hidden in the chapel. Once he’d run out of scripture to read, they’d given him the history of the village. The history was written on dozens of scrolls, each of them in a different handwriting. It was the language of the Church that was used, and the history was full of little secrets that never would’ve been welcome to alpha ears. Each of the omegas that had run from their homes was described on the pages, their name and family history dutifully recorded alongside the priest or priestess’ notes about them. Most of the notes were sweet, caring, recommending that the young omega take on a certain role once the Church had formally claimed them as their own. Ryeowook was not allowed to read the current scroll (the older priestess, who was the one writing it, kept it under lock and key) but he was certain his own profile was recorded within. What the priestess would say about him, he couldn’t predict. He hoped that it was kind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the first snow came that winter, Ryeowook was finally sent to the capital. He was sent on horseback, accompanied by a priestess perhaps only a decade older than himself who had come for the express purpose of guiding him. “A few years ago, I was in your position,” she told him, on the weeks-long journey. “I was born by the seaside too. They think we speak weird.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The capital people. They have their own accent, and they think every other accent is odd. But they’ll love you all the same. Don’t worry too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sunghee, his guide, was quick to give him advice along the journey. There were certain rituals to life in the Capital Basilica, certain manners that were shared by none outside the Church. Ryeowook had learned some of them from his time in the chapel, but many of them he would have to learn when he was surrounded by other novices. Wake up as close to dawn as possible, if you can help it; never hide or disguise an insult to a brother or sister, take up your problems directly so that you can reach a solution quickly; question the Church’s leadership when productive, but know when the time has come to obey orders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The capital was, for a lack of better words, imposing. The buildings were too tall, too solid, and the people too numerous. There were few peasants among them, although artisans and traders moved among the masses of nobles and scholars with ease. Their clothes, even those of the peasants, seemed far nicer than anything worn by the people in Ryeowook’s village. They were wealthy, prosperous. Sunghee caught him watching them as they rode through the city to the basilica. “The staring won’t help you blend in, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked at her, eyes wide. “They’d notice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook, people here notice everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for the first few weeks, that seemed to be the truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they reached the basilica, Sunghee led Ryeowook through the sanctuary (Ryeowook had never seen anything so beautiful) and into the backrooms, down the halls until they reached the rooms used by the leadership. Sunghee knocked on one of the doors, and a moment later a male voice told them to enter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Ryeowook,” Sunghee said, pushing him forward. “The head priestess of his village recommended he be brought to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man sitting behind the desk looked young, though not so young that he seemed childlike. He had an air about him, one that made Ryeowook freeze beneath his gaze. His eyes, glowing in the same way as every priestess he met, were distinctly unimpressed, skeptical, and annoyed. He was a beautiful man, but he was just as terrifying. “I don’t train children under fifteen,” the man said, looking at Ryeowook with mild disdain. “Take him to Boa, and tell her to bring him back to me once he’s old enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fourteen and a half,” Ryeowook said, finding his voice. “I’m not that far from fifteen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man regarded him, and with a glance to Sunghee, he stood. He walked around his desk to take a closer look at the boy. The sleeves of the man’s white robes were red, with a thin line of purple around the hem. Ryeowook had never seen sleeves like those before–both of the priestesses he’d known at home and all of the clergy he’d seen on their journey had plain white sleeves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know what you’ve been recommended for, Ryeowook?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your home priestess evidently thought you would be a good secret-keeper. Do you know what that means?” Ryeowook shook his head. “Do you read well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Ryeowook swallowed. “I stayed at the chapel in my village for half a year, and I read as much as I could. Prayer books, histories, anything they gave me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why, then.” The man looked to Sunghee. “He’s not been blessed, yet, has he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I brought him straight to you, I figured–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take him to Boa. She’ll have him blessed and find him a place among the novices.” The man crossed back to sit at his desk once more. As Sunghee placed an arm around Ryeowook’s shoulders, preparing to lead him out of the room, the man spoke once more. “He’ll report to me during the day. We’re low on numbers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Heechul had lied that day. There were no real vacancies, among the secret-keepers, but he had taken Ryeowook as a trainee anyway. Years later, when Heechul had become head of the basilica, he would tell Ryeowook that it was because he’d seen the fight in his eyes.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Being blessed was an odd experience. Ryeowook had been paired with another boy, Sungmin, who had come to the basilica only a few days before Ryeowook had. He was from the capital, from scholarly lineage, and he’d chosen it because of family tradition. “My dad’s little brother is a priest, too,” he said to Ryeowook, while they were waiting in one of the basilica hallways. “And my granddad’s sister, and so on. I wanted to join as soon as I presented, but they made me wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook only hummed in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They agreed for me to be a trainee healer. I wanted to be a secret-keeper, you know, but I got turned down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sungmin was both strong and pretty, and Ryeowook felt frail in comparison. They’d been given their own proper robes for the blessing, and Ryeowook could see Sungmin’s muscle through the sleeves. Ryeowook, in comparison, felt nearly drowned out in the fabric. Neither of them had plain white sleeves; Ryeowook’s sleeves had a small line of red circling his wrists, and Sungmin had the same in blue. (If Sungmin was jealous, seeing Ryeowook’s sleeves, he didn’t voice it.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eight seconds, beneath the water. Eight seconds, hands linked with Sungmin, that felt like hours. Ryeowook couldn’t explain the way it dragged out, why it felt the way it did. But underneath the water, he almost felt a part of himself fall away. The boy who had played in the sea, who had learned to sew with his mother, and who had run away at the first sign of danger–Ryeowook wasn’t that boy anymore. Not really. That boy was free, yes, but he was so afraid. And as Ryeowook was held beneath the waters of the holy river, he felt that fear fade away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had found his home, and no alpha could touch him now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The novices slept in one large room, on a series of mattress pads laid edge to edge so that it never seemed to end. They were free to choose where, amongst whom, they slept, but once someone had found their place among the pile it rarely changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook found his place between Sungmin, who had quickly become a friend, and Junsu, whom Sungmin had known before they presented. Junsu had come from a noble family, and he’d chosen the Church out of true religious devotion. He could be quiet, some of the time, but other times he would keep everyone awake with his stories and his laughter. He’d been chosen to become a healer, as well, and that meant he spent his days with Sungmin and a not-small contingent of the novices. While many of the novices had plain white sleeves, perhaps a third had the blue ring. Only two others had the red ring, and they were both girls nearing twenty, soon to become full priestesses and leave the novices behind. They were not unkind to Ryeowook, but they weren’t attached to him either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The first and most obvious job of a secret-keeper is to know how to shut up,” Heechul had said, on the first morning that Ryeowook had been brought to learn from him. “If you can’t do that, you’ll be useless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Perhaps that rule was what inspired the two girls to be so cold to him.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Each person you’re assigned to, whether a fellow member of the clergy or someone under the Church’s protection, will have different ways that they think about the world. Until you learn to see through their eyes, you will never be able to write about them accurately. What may sound dangerous to you may be harmless to them, and things you may dismiss as meaningless wonderings may be the signs of a growing unease.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Take care of our people, of Her people, and make sure that they are never harmed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That was the simple principle by which healers and secret-keepers alike swore, but each had a different function in upholding it. Healers could only heal once a problem had been detected, it was up to the secret-keepers to route out the problems before they sprung up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you had anything that concerned you, in the past month?” Ryeowook asked his first assignment, an elderly priestess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing out of the ordinary, my dear,” she replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sent the trainees to the people least in need of help. It was a fair strategy, since the trainees would also be the most likely to miss the problems they were supposed to be finding. But that led to more problems, because within a year of Heechul’s lessons and Ryeowook’s unchallenging assignments, he realized that he had no idea what kind of problems he was looking for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to help people,” Ryeowook said to Heechul, his feet tucked beneath himself as he paged through the book Heechul had set in front of him. “But I’m not helping people, my assignments, they don’t– They don’t need my help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if the goddess is kind, none of your assignments ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> need help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked up at the older omega, and he let the venom rise to his tongue. “Then what’s the point? Why am I doing this if none of them ever need help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say none of them will, I said you’d better hope you don’t get assigned to the ones who do.” Heechul sighed. “Some of us are lucky, Ryeowook, and some of us aren’t. Some of us go through a career of assignments who don’t need help, and some of us see the world’s horrors everyday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook had nodded yes, at the time, and Heechul had told him that he would have to wait. Not until he was twenty, but at least until he was nineteen. (“That’s the youngest I feel comfortable sending anyone into the darkness, even if they insist they want to go.”) And wait, Ryeowook did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Heechul became head of the basilica, in the intervening years, and someone else became the teacher for the new secret-keepers. Heechul kept his old students under his tutelage, though, because he didn’t trust anyone further than he could carry them (i.e., not at all.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jungsoo, Heechul’s partner, became head of the diocese at the same time that Heechul was promoted. Jungsoo had once been the teacher for the healers, and he maintained a gentle air that Heechul so often lacked. They were an odd pair, and they often argued, but no one could disagree that their bond was nearly unmatched among the clergy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(“Well that’s what happens, when you’re forced to share a tiny mattress with someone for a year and a half. You learn to love them.”)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On the eve of Ryeowook’s nineteenth birthday, Heechul gave him a scroll to read. “The treaty that ended the war,” Heechul explained. “You’ll need to read it before tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook hadn’t even read to the bottom of the treaty before he realized what his new assignment was. The darkness. He slept uneasily that night, lungs tight in his chest, and when the light broke in the morning Ryeowook reported straight to Heechul’s office with circles under his eyes and a quiet, anticipatory grimace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will refer to her as Holy Mother,” Heechul explained, as he walked Ryeowook from the basilica to the palace. “Always be calm, in her presence. Peacefully introduce yourself as a secret-keeper, and try to keep her grounded in the moment. If you think she needs to see a healer, tell me this afternoon and we’ll send one to see her. She’s mostly past pregnancy age now, but that’s one of the things we watch for. So. Take note of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded along, head kept down. Their journey didn’t take long; the guards at the palace evidently knew Heechul, as they made way for him without a word at every gate and door. As impressive as the palace was, visually, Ryeowook couldn’t seem to keep any of it in his attention. By the time that they arrived at the little, nearly-hidden door, he felt as if his lungs were going to squeeze out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll keep the Church’s copy of the key, from now on,” Heechul said, as he passed a golden-plated key to him. “Keep it safe. And remember to lock the door behind you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Ryeowook was left alone to open the door for himself. Key, lock, twist, </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> open. The room inside, though little, seemed almost empty. That was, until Ryeowook looked to his right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cowered against the wall, hands around her knees, was a priestess in dirty robes. She stared straight ahead, as if focused on the shrine in front of her. As Ryeowook closed the door and approached her, however, he realized that her attention was no longer on the world that he could see. “Please,” she whispered to the air, “please, please, not this one. Not this one too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy Mother.” Ryeowook knelt a few feet away from her, and was careful to keep his voice soft. “Holy Mother, I’ve come to see you. I’m a secret-keeper, my name is–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” she whispered, not looking at him. “Don’t take my baby, not this one. Not this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy Mother, I’m not here to–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, don’t, please,” she continued to whisper to herself. Ryeowook wasn’t sure what would help, if anything would help, but he knew that he had to help her somehow. That’s what he’d asked for, it was why Heechul had sent him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deep breath in, deep breath out. Ryeowook reached out to take her hand in his, and she finally seemed to see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m your new secret-keeper.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t mumble to herself, once she’d realized he was there. He led her to the room off to the side, with the little pool of holy water, and he helped wash her clean. While initially she had merely seemed unwashed, as he cleaned away dirt and sweat he found something much more worrying: bruises. “Holy Mother, what happened–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The King,” she said. She did not elaborate, and she did not need to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weight that settled in Ryeowook’s stomach, that day, was not one that ever left. There was a despair, that she was being forced to live this way, and more than that, there was an anger. An anger at the Church, at Ryeowook’s savior, for letting this happen to one of its own. Had Ryeowook not sworn to the Church that he would ensure no harm came to Her people? Why would they make him swear to it, if they could not even hold to their own oath?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did we let this happen?” was the first question that Ryeowook asked, when he arrived at Heechul’s office an hour later. “How do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> let this continue to happen?” was the second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook,” Heechul said, taking him by the wrist. “We don’t have any other choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we have choices! If this was the price of peace, then maybe peace isn’t worth keeping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t mean that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” Ryeowook insisted. “I mean every word of it. We’re supposed to protect omegas, not send them to face torture at the hands of the King!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook,” Heechul said, his voice low. “Take a deep breath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to stop arguing with you just because–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’m not asking you to. Take a deep breath.” Ryeowook obeyed. “Do you know why secret-keepers wear red sleeves?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before the peace, the red sleeves were worn by the Church’s warriors. Those who saved life wore blue, and those who took it wore red. And when the peace was enforced on us, we made our warriors become guardians. Defensive, not offensive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is defense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not disagreeing with you.” Heechul finally let go of his wrist, and returned to his desk. “Are you willing to see the Holy Mother again next month?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was Heechul insinuating? Why was he trying to tell Ryeowook that keeping the peace was important and at the same time telling him that they were warriors? Was he giving Ryeowook permission to do what was necessary, while giving himself plausible deniability? Or was he simply saying that he agreed in principle but disagreed in practice?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook swallowed. “I’ll stay on the assignment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook turned to leave. Heechul’s voice stopped him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t do anything foolish, Ryeowook. Guardians think about the broader consequences before they act.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Holy Mother, despite her circumstances, was a devoted priestess. It took a few months for her to tell Ryeowook much of anything, but once she did, he understood her pain in his own lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to make sure the goddess watches over my children,” she said, one day, while Ryeowook was massaging oils into her scalp. “They’re taken from me as soon as the guards realize they’ve been born, but I usually have a few hours with them, maybe a few days. That’s a long enough time to bless them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Ryeowook was assigned to meet with Jaejoong, the first thing he saw was his eyes. Glowing, even though he wasn’t yet of the Church. Jaejoong was beautiful, radiant, if a little moody. A young omega, who didn’t yet realize the weight that was bearing down on him. His status was marked with fancy silks and pretty jewelry, and none of it seemed to weigh him down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m courting an alpha,” was the first thing Jaejoong told Ryeowook, when he sat down with him for the first time. Wistful, half-naïve. “I guess they won’t send you to watch over me, once I’m married.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you excited?” Ryeowook asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s very sweet,” Jaejoong said, and it couldn’t help but sound rehearsed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first few weeks that Ryeowook met with Jaejoong, it went well. Ryeowook would ask a few questions to start it off, and Jaejoong would ramble on about Yunho for an hour, and by the end of it Ryeowook would be content that Jaejoong wasn’t in any danger. Simple. It almost made Ryeowook feel like he, too, were just a young boy, talking about crushes and wishing for a prince. (Of course, fairytale princes don’t exist in the real world.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Jaejoong and for his alpha, Jaejoong was his mother’s son. It only took Ryeowook a few months to begin to see it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes, I, I look at Yunho. And I expect to see him, because I hear his voice and I feel his touch. But it’s not quite him, there’s something, something different. And I don’t know what it is, but something’s wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Jaejoong said, and as he buried his face in his hands, Ryeowook felt that same weight in his stomach come crashing to the forefront of his consciousness. “I want to marry Yunho, I want to be close to him, but when I look up and I see him I just… I feel scared. And I don’t want to feel like that, I–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Ryeowook took Jaejoong’s hands in his own. “When that happens, just focus on him, try to find the Yunho that you know beneath whatever it is that you’re seeing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if it changes, what if I try and imagine my Yunho, but he never comes back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He will,” Ryeowook said, even though he did not believe it. “You have to believe that he will be there when you look for him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was another month, each week punctuated by similar worries and similar attempts at comfort, before everything changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook walked into Jaejoong’s rooms, saw him sitting at his usual place, but when they met eyes, Jaejoong’s eyes were no longer glowing. He’d lost the blessing that his mother had been so careful to give him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Ryeowook asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, Yunho and I, we…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were intimate?” It was the only thing Ryeowook knew of, in all his studies of the Church’s histories and theologies, that could destroy the blessing. Intimacy between people who were blessed was normal, expected, but if they were intimate with someone who lay outside of the goddess’ care and blessings, they would lose the glow within seconds. It was recoverable, of course, but its absence spoke volumes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaejoong nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you want to be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, I think so. I can’t really remember that clearly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook swallowed. At least it wasn’t rape, or at least not rape outright. “Is it upsetting you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just.” Jaejoong bit his lip, looked up at the ceiling, and took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can marry him. I love him, but I’m so, so scared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Church can help you,” Ryeowook said, because he had been in Jaejoong’s shoes. “You don’t have to marry him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I have to marry him. Everyone expects us to marry, and now that he’s taken me–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Church will protect you. You don’t have to live with alphas having control over you.” He knew how ironic it was, to insist that Jaejoong would be free by joining the very institution that was so powerless to protect his mother. But there was no risk of Jaejoong suffering the same fate (even if the crown prince were as cruel as his father, Ryeowook doubted he would be willing to commit incest) and Jaejoong had no need to worry. “We have healers, and they can help you deal with what you’re going through. With the things that you’re seeing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaejoong slowly nodded. “I’m still a prince, though. What would people think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to be a prince. You can be like us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The leadership were infuriated with him, once they learned what he’d suggested to Jaejoong. Ryeowook had been called not only before Heechul, but also before Jungsoo and Boa, the leader of the novices and designated successor to the High Priestess. It was a miracle the High Priestess herself didn’t come to scold him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The peace treaty made it clear,” Jungsoo said, “that the royal family has precedence above the Church. That is why they’re allowed to take one of the clergy as concubine. We simply aren’t allowed to take one of the royal family. It would be usurping power, and we’re not prepared to deal with the consequences.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If he comes willingly, though? Is that so horrible? Most of the nobility believe in the goddess more than half the clergy do; they’d accept that Jaejoong joined the Church because of his devotion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not after he was already courting,” Boa said. “If he’d joined when he was a child, maybe. But now, it would be too scandalous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook turned to look at Heechul, who had seemed to refrain from joining in. Heechul met his gaze, and after a moment, he drew himself to speak. “It would be a scandal if we accepted him normally. But if we have some other reason that we can give, perhaps it can be negotiated. For now, though, I think it’s best that he’s kept outside the clergy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what am I supposed to do? Watch him suffer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Figure out a way to help him,” Heechul replied. “Talk to him, talk to the people close to him. Figure out a way that they can keep him safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took two weeks, but Ryeowook managed to find Yunho’s apartment and make his way onto the lord’s meeting schedule. The alpha was courteous, handsome, and every bit as sweet as Jaejoong had said he was. Ryeowook didn’t know whether that made the situation better or worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know he’s not well,” Yunho confessed, over a cup of tea and dark circles that seemed to stretch for miles. “But I have no idea how to help him. Especially because I think I might be the problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not the problem,” Ryeowook said. Yunho didn’t seem to care for the comfort. “He would be unwell no matter what. You just happened to be caught in the storm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would he be better off, if he didn’t have to deal with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yunho sighed. “I just don’t want to marry him, only to watch him get worse and worse every day. To wake up to see him scared of me, to hear him scream because he hallucinated something in the mirror. And especially if we had children, I worry about what that would do to him, what he might do to them. And the more I think about it the less I think marriage is a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook swallowed. Maybe Yunho would be more persuadable than he’d thought. “If he were to join the Church, so that he could be helped by our healers, would you be okay with that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yunho was silent for a moment, staring out the window. “Yes,” he said. “As long as he was safe, I’d be okay with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A month later, Ryeowook had found his compromise. Jaejoong would be called a prophet, instead of just a priest, and that would satisfy the royals’ ego enough to get their ire off of the Church, at least publicly. Jaejoong would be safe, and all the troubles would end there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook had never seen glowing red eyes before. It almost seemed like a contradiction, to him, for the glow of the goddess’ blessing to shine in the eyes of an alpha. The goddess’ blessing was an act of protection, a claim on an omega that kept them safe from the alphas who would hurt them. But as he sat across from Jongwoon, he couldn’t help but feel entranced by his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just don’t really understand what happened,” Jongwoon said, and his eyes were so open. So honest. The blessing his mother had given him only helped to magnify the emotion that was already held in his eyes. “I want the best for my brother, and I’m sure the Church is taking good care of him, but I just want to know why he was called.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He needed the Church’s care,” Ryeowook said. “The goddess wanted him home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He didn’t feel bad for lying by omission, still less about lying to an alpha prince. But he felt bad about the trusting nod that Jongwoon gave him, and about the slight tinge of loss that came through Jongwoon’s glow.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you can help him? The Church?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded. “We keep people safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not always.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their eyes met. Jongwoon’s eyes could tell no lies, and Ryeowook could see the challenge that lay within them. He knew. Of course he knew, he was the crown prince, one day he would have to take a concubine of his own. But that meant that he acknowledged the harm done, the idea that keeping a holy concubine was harmful. But maybe Ryeowook was overthinking it; maybe that wasn’t what Jongwoon meant at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m your mother’s secret-keeper,” Ryeowook said, to see if he was correct.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you know, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon looked down at his lap, and after a moment he shook his head. “I’ve never met her. I’m not allowed to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you know what she’s gone through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can guess.” Jongwoon bit his lip. His expression steeled. “My father’s nature is obvious enough, and I can only imagine what happens when that nature is given absolute power over another person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Ryeowook swallowed. He was unsure, if he should tell him what his mother had gone through. Perhaps it would help him understand, so that when he chose his own concubine he would know how not to behave. But at the same time, to give him any details would be to disrespect her. She would not want her son to see her like that, to know what had happened. No mother would. “Your intuition is probably not that far off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon nodded to himself. He was silent, for a few moments longer, and when he looked back up at Ryeowook his eyes were open and honest once more. Earnest. As if he were searching for approval, even from the random priest who had come to explain unknowable things to him. “I won’t be like my father. I won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you won’t be.” Ryeowook looked at the prince, and with a certain hesitation, he reached forward to touch his cheek. To hold and comfort him, but also to brush his thumb over Jongwoon’s cheekbone and see the way the glow of his eyes seemed to shine brighter from the proximity to holiness. “Your mother would’ve loved you, you know. She still loves you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked over his shoulder, catching Jongwoon’s eyes. “Your highness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect to see you here. Well, I knew you’d be at the basilica, of course, but I didn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>expect</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you </span>
  <em>
    <span>here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly. And it’s really nice to see you, you know–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook laughed. The prince was obviously infatuated with him, and Ryeowook found it endearing enough to go along. He was still so innocent, still so naïve. He wouldn’t still have the glow, if he weren’t. “If you wanted to see me again, you should’ve just asked the leadership. You’re a prince, they’ll obey any petty request you ask of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon blushed. “That’s not–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t lie to me,” Ryeowook said with a grin. “If you want me to come visit you, I’ll come pray with you tomorrow morning. In your quarters, so you don’t even have to go anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t disturb your work?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one’s up that early anyway. I have plenty of time for work later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Ryeowook hated the way that Jongwoon seemed to draw him in. It was the eyes, Ryeowook knew it was.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re in the choir,” Jongwoon said to him, one morning after prayers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you like to sing on your own? Without the choir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes.” He liked the harmonies of the choir, the way that two or three voices could make chords that echoed to the bones; but he liked to sing solo as well. It felt more lonely, sure, but it felt like the whistle of the wind over the sea. Like home, when Ryeowook lay awake at night and wondered if he could still call the sea </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all. “Do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like to sing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes. Never in a choir, though, so it’s probably a different style.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sing for me, and I’ll tell you if it’s a different style.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A blush in his cheeks, Jongwoon began to sing for him, just a little melody one of his nursemaids must’ve sung to him when he was younger. The style was different from that of the Church, but he had a good method. Someone had taught him how to sing, even if he would not acknowledge it. Ryeowook tried to join in, once he understood the words and the basic melody, singing in harmony a little above Jongwoon’s melody. It didn’t sound half-bad, but perhaps Ryeowook was blinded by his own participation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a certain understanding that you have to have to sing in harmony, an understanding that neither of you will switch to the other’s melody. It must be maintained, checked, so that neither changes. And as Ryeowook looked at Jongwoon, as he saw his glow, he knew that they were in understanding. And it felt– It felt beautiful. Ryeowook hadn’t thought it was possible to have an understanding like that, with an alpha.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It was the blessing, that was what Ryeowook concluded, as he lay in bed at night and wondered why Jongwoon was so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> than other alphas. The goddess was watching over him, and She would make sure he could do no evil.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon asked him to walk in the gardens with him. It was something that Jongwoon often did, from what Ryeowook could tell, when he had too much time and too few duties.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My father is angry with me,” he said, biting his lip. “He thinks I’m too irresponsible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would he think that?” Maybe Ryeowook hadn’t known him long enough, but Jongwoon had seemed nothing but responsible for the few months that he’d known him. Maybe it was simply that the King had different standards by which he judged responsibility.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He entrusted me with taking care of my siblings, with making sure that they were safe. And I, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaejoong.” Jongwoon sighed. “I introduced him to Yunho. I caused him to be stressed, to be, well, whatever he is. It’s my fault.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault.” It wasn’t Jongwoon’s fault, and it wasn’t Yunho’s fault. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Jaejoong’s illness had appeared at a time that made their actions seem responsible. Nothing more, nothing less. But Ryeowook knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince Jongwoon of that, if he’d already gotten it into his head that he was responsible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is. I should’ve been more careful with him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Being more careful wouldn’t have saved him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what would’ve?” Jongwoon looked at him, and it was the most distraught look Ryeowook had ever seen in an alpha’s eyes. Even Yunho, with all of his worries, had been accepting of what must be done. Jongwoon couldn’t seem to comprehend it, the how or the why. He still wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>save</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaejoong, or at least to save the Jaejoong that lingered in his memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing. There’s nothing that could’ve saved him entirely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It was the wrong thing to say. Jongwoon would cling to the idea that he could’ve saved him, at least a piece of him. And a piece of him that could’ve been saved was a piece that Jongwoon had lost.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was only a few weeks before Ryeowook came, at his usual time, and found Jongwoon in bed with a beta.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook swallowed, looked away from the other man, and pulled Jongwoon out of bed the way he normally did. It didn’t matter to him that Jongwoon had slept with someone–that was his right, as an alpha prince, to keep lovers–nor was he somehow jealous. It wasn’t as if Ryeowook had any kind of crush on him. That would be foolish, because Jongwoon was the King’s son, and Ryeowook could not trust any alpha son of the King. The other alpha, the earnest and naïve alpha that Ryeowook had imagined he knew, clearly didn’t exist. It would be a fool’s errand to look at Jongwoon and be infatuated with the image he didn’t live up to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Ryeowook didn’t hurt because of some ruined crush, or even because he felt that Jongwoon had somehow deceived him. He felt the ache in his chest because when he looked in Jongwoon’s eyes, he no longer saw the glow. Jongwoon had thrown away the blessing that his mother had given him, and he’d thrown it away so carelessly. That was the first morning that Ryeowook closed his eyes, in prayer, instead of keeping his eyes fixed with Jongwoon’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Maybe, just maybe, Ryeowook should’ve run as far as he could. Maybe when the glow and the fascination it brought had disappeared, Ryeowook should’ve been disillusioned and seen the prince for all the trouble he was. But Ryeowook was young, and he was foolish. He still saw the remnants of the alpha he had almost loved. And he didn’t run.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been over a year since they’d first met, when it happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon did it so casually, and that made it so much worse. They were in the garden, discussing flowers and their place in the holy books, when Jongwoon placed his palm on Ryeowook’s neck and leaned in to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook froze in shock, for a moment, and when he realized what was happening he shoved Jongwoon away. The alpha didn’t fall, barely even moved at the push, but it was enough to end the kiss. “What do you think you’re doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what I’m doing,” Jongwoon said. His eyes were flat, empty. Even since he’d lost the glow, Jongwoon had always looked at Ryeowook with a certain element of affection. But now, his eyes were calculatedly blank. As if he knew the harm he was inflicting, and he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter. “You’re a secret-keeper, you know what I’m allowed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If before, Ryeowook had felt frozen, in that moment he felt dead. And in a way, he was. Ryeowook wouldn’t become like that. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself become the madman in the attic, the half-beast always searching for children that had been stolen away years before. He hadn’t run from home and thrown his old life away in order to end up back in the hands of an alpha who would use him. If Jongwoon wanted him, Ryeowook would kill himself instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not having me like that,” Ryeowook stammered out, and with what little courage he could gather, he swung his hand and slapped Jongwoon across the cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He ran, before he saw Jongwoon’s reaction, and he hid in his little bedroom he shared with Sungmin for half a week before he realized that no one was coming to lock him up for Jongwoon’s use. He went back to Jongwoon’s bedroom for prayers, on the first morning he felt calm, and Jongwoon didn’t mention it. He looked at Ryeowook fondly, once more, and Ryeowook almost imagined that Jongwoon had abandoned the idea.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s an alpha scholar investigating Jaejoong,” Heechul told Ryeowook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was the one who signed off on him interviewing Jaejoong. With Junsu’s supervision, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook widened his eyes at his old teacher. “Why would you do that? Jaejoong needs time to heal, not people digging into his personal matters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The scholar’s tutor is a friend of mine,” Heechul replied. “I owed him a favor. It’s not like Junsu will let him cross any lines.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook blinked at him. He didn’t dispute the second statement, Junsu was plenty protective. But the first part… “What kind of friend is this, that you owed him enough a favor for this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heechul sighed. “I courted him, before I joined the Church. Broke his heart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heechul looked down at his desk. He swallowed, and when he looked back up at Ryeowook, the younger omega knew he was in for a ride. “I was born a bastard, you know. Scholar father, peasant mother. Unrecognized until the moment I presented, and then immediately recognized and brought into my father’s household because he wanted to marry me off. Social climbing. All my alpha half-brothers were disappointments, and I was the only chess piece left to use. So I courted a few alphas, never met any of them that I liked for more than a week at a time. And then Han Geng came along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was sweet, smart, actually treated me like a human being. I courted him for months on end, and I almost considered marrying him. We made love, even. But as soon as I felt his child inside me, I knew I couldn’t marry him. Not because I didn’t love him. But because my father would’ve gotten what he wanted, would’ve used me as his chess piece. So I went to Han Geng, and I kissed him goodbye, and I joined the Church the next morning before anyone could stop me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does he know about your child?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heechul shook his head. “Jungsoo joined the Church at the same time I did, and he was pregnant too. We raised our babies together until they were half a year old, and then the leadership at the time decided they’d be safer away from the capital. Still being raised together, but they’re far away now. No matter how much you love an alpha, he’ll always use his bastard children against you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you make sure he doesn’t even know about them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Ryeowook thought that was bad reasoning, even for as little as he himself trusted alphas. He didn’t voice it to Heechul, though, and Jungsoo’s response when Ryeowook brought it up was merely to say that his child’s father should’ve thought through the consequences before he’d slept with an omega of the lower classes.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook made it his mission to find Kyuhyun, this scholar, before Kyuhyun found him. The alpha would no doubt be looking for him, if he’d interviewed Jaejoong and gotten far enough to figure out that Ryeowook had been the one to suggest he join the Church. If Kyuhyun found Ryeowook, the alpha would have the upper hand. If Ryeowook found Kyuhyun, he could summarily tell the alpha to screw off and be done with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He found him. He was handsome, Ryeowook would admit, and clever, but he couldn’t compare. His eyes couldn’t compare.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook lay awake at night, thinking about it. He knew that, if he left it alone and never mentioned it again, Jongwoon would move on from him. He would abandon the idea. He would stop asking Ryeowook to come to pray, in the mornings, and he would eventually leave Ryeowook behind altogether.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would find someone else to take.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was, well, absolutely terrifying. Because Ryeowook had already seen the horrors. He had seen the worst case scenario, everything that could go wrong. He knew what lurked in the darkness, what he could become, if he agreed. But if Jongwoon fell for some other pretty little thing, a naïve flower with no idea of the trouble he was falling into, he would have no power. No way to negotiate or to resist Jongwoon’s demands. At least Ryeowook had some power over the alpha. At least he knew how to sway him, and he knew which traps not to walk into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon had </span>
  <em>
    <span>chosen</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ryeowook, had honestly chosen him because he somehow, illogically fell for him. That meant that Ryeowook could manipulate his decisions, if he wanted to. He could bargain, and he could give himself to Jongwoon with concessions to ensure that he didn’t become the monster in the attic. He could make Jongwoon love him, even more deeply than he did now, and he could convince Jongwoon to use his power to change things once the time had come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook was a secret-keeper, a warrior. He was supposed to protect the goddess’ people. And if Ryeowook could figure this out, if he could use all of the weapons available to him, maybe he would be able to protect them in a way that his predecessors had failed to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook would walk straight into the trap, if only to ensure that no one else ever followed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And maybe, just maybe, Ryeowook believed that the beautiful alpha he’d lost was somehow hidden within Jongwoon, waiting to be pulled back to the surface. That if Ryeowook could bless him and remake him anew, Jongwoon would be the person Ryeowook had nearly fallen for. Ryeowook would save him, and if he couldn’t, he would kill him.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m willing to consider it. But not without a few promises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, continue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook knew it was bad form to present his demands during the time they usually reserved for prayer, but at least this way they were inside, where no one could watch them argue. “Neither you nor your consort can have outside lovers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have reasons for this, Your highness. If you want to hear them, I’ll be happy to explain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please do.” Jongwoon looked at him with skeptical eyes. How far he’d fallen, in only a year. He’d been such a sweet alpha, not a year before, and now Ryeowook had to give him a dissertation on why he didn’t want to be cheated on during his imprisonment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your eyes used to glow, you know, like mine.” Ryeowook reached out to touch Jongwoon’s cheek. The alpha didn’t flinch away. “Your mother blessed you when you were a baby, the same way members of the clergy are blessed. And you kept that blessing, up until the day you decided to sleep around with whichever beta happened to fall into your bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that have to do with–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The blessing disappears if you sleep with someone who hasn’t been blessed.” Ryeowook brought his other hand up to Jongwoon’s other cheek, framing the alpha’s face in his hands. “I fell in love with your eyes, you know. And you threw it away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryeowook, I didn’t know–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can take it back.” Ryeowook looked into his eyes, and he tried to figure out whether Jongwoon was really listening to him or not. “I can bless you, and I can bless your consort too. And if neither of you sleep with someone else, we’ll be in equilibrium.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’ll have the eyes you fell in love with?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook blushed, dropped his hands, and nodded. Better to move on, and not let Jongwoon over-analyze that. “Beyond that, I have a few other things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No physical punishments or violence during sex. Either you or your consort visit me at least once a week, and during that time we’ll have an actual conversation, not just sex.” Ryeowook took a deep breath. Up to that point, Jongwoon hadn’t looked opposed to any of them. The next one might be the deal-breaker. “I get to keep my children for the first few months of their lives, at least until they can sit up on their own, basic things like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t guarantee that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’m not agreeing to this without it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jongwoon looked off to the side, as if debating whether to respond, and when he looked back, a moment later, he simply muttered that Ryeowook should lead them in prayers before it got too late in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Ryeowook finished his prayers, he looked up at Jongwoon and followed his eyes. Kyuhyun. Of course Kyuhyun had found a way to talk to Jongwoon too. He would never leave Ryeowook’s life alone, would he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll think about it, alright?” Jongwoon said, as he held Ryeowook back from leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Ryeowook said, and he didn’t mean it. As he brushed past Kyuhyun, he wished him a good morning, and he didn’t mean that either.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were sleeping together. Of course they were. Because clearly, Ryeowook’s complaints about Jongwoon jumping into bed with anyone that looked his way twice hadn’t stuck. At least it was an alpha, a possible consort, and not whichever beta had caught his eye that day. It was an improvement, by some definition.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Kyuhyun was handsome, though, even when he was asleep among Jongwoon’s sheets.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you pick him as consort, he has to drop his research,” Ryeowook said to Jongwoon one day, while they were walking in the gardens. They hadn’t been talking about Kyuhyun, but Ryeowook needn’t mention him by name for it to be clear to whom he was referring. “I can’t stand to be in a room with him, right now, and I’d rather not keep it that way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d approve of him, though, if he agreed to drop it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You clearly want him,” Ryeowook said, knowing it wasn’t an answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you want him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What I want obviously isn’t the main concern here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(When Kyuhyun said yes, though, Ryeowook couldn’t stop the little spark of hope that sprouted in his chest that </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> the three of them would be alright.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The month of seclusion was miserable. It was nearly enough to snuff out that spark of hope altogether. One room, for the rest of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he was a warrior, even if he managed to sacrifice himself in the name of protecting Her people, he would still suffer all of the inevitabilities that came from an empty room and walls that couldn’t scream back at him. It would be a miracle if he was still sane when the time came for him to actually put his plan into action, to convince his alphas that things had to change.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How fucking pitiful Ryeowook was, to have ended up here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How fucking foolish he was, for not having killed himself like he’d said he would.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook tried to treat Kyuhyun the same way he treated Jongwoon. Not because the other could compare, not because Ryeowook was in love with him. But because, at the very least, he wasn’t the person who had put him here. Kyuhyun was incidental. Loving Jongwoon was miserable, fatalistic; but loving Kyuhyun could be more equitable. Not equal, never equal, but something approaching it. At least Kyuhyun didn’t have formal power over him; at least Kyuhyun’s power came only from whatever physical strength he chose to use.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Kyuhyun was pretty with glowing eyes. Not as pretty as Jongwoon was, but. Ryeowook thought he might learn to love those eyes. Not like he had any other choice, if he didn’t want to be alone.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook had thought, perhaps foolishly, that Jongwoon was too sweet to mistreat him. That his temperament would save Ryeowook from the Holy Mother’s fate. But that didn’t matter. How could it? Sure, Jongwoon would look at him with those pretty, glowing eyes and Ryeowook could feel like he was loved. But they were still fucking on a cold stone floor, without any comfort to be spoken of. That’s what they were given, what neither of them could change. Jongwoon </span>
  <em>
    <span>loving him</span>
  </em>
  <span> couldn’t change the fact that everything defining Ryeowook’s role had been set up to make him miserable and drive him insane. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plan wouldn’t work. It couldn’t. Because Jongwoon loved him, in that moment, but it wouldn’t last. Jongwoon had chased him, purely because he could not get him. One always hungers for the sweet one cannot have, and as soon as it’s been tasted over and over it grows boring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryeowook had always been able to manipulate Jongwoon before, because he could withhold his love and affection until the alpha bent to his demands. He could hold Jongwoon’s face in his hands, and he could tell him what he needed to do to </span>
  <em>
    <span>earn</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ryeowook’s love, and Jongwoon would do it without hesitation. But now that Jongwoon had power over him, now that he could have him whenever he wanted, it was different. It wouldn’t work anymore. And that was the most terrifying thing, because Ryeowook had miscalculated. He couldn’t use Jongwoon to earn his freedom or to end the system altogether, because Jongwoon could no longer be baited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>People were not inherently good, or at least good people didn’t last long in a world like theirs. They would fall to their temptations, to the temptation to sit by and let the harm continue to happen. So long as Jongwoon benefited from Ryeowook’s captivity, he had no incentive to do anything to end it. Ryeowook wouldn’t be free. And the first alpha he bore would be raised the same way, and he would think he was doing the right thing when he chose a pretty flower who couldn’t refuse him. And so the cycle would continue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How long would it be before Ryeowook was bearing their children, how long would it be before those children were stolen from his arms? How long would it be before they grew tired of him, when they stopped honoring their promises?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When that time came, would Ryeowook have the courage to kill himself? To kill his alphas?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know. And as he looked at Jongwoon, so in love with him, and Kyuhyun, so fascinated by him, he knew that it would break his heart again either way.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Epilogue: Jongwoon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?” Jongwoon asked, key in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon hadn’t spoken directly with Jaejoong in years, but he could tell that his brother had noticed his eyes the first week after Ryeowook had blessed him. He’d nodded his head at him, when they passed in the halls, which Jaejoong had not done since he’d joined the Church.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong was a particular type of quiet today, the way he’d never been when they were children, but he’d come without his healer at his side. A good sign for his health, maybe, or maybe he’d come alone for the sake of privacy. Either way, this would be more of a family affair than anything either of them had experienced in years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon twisted the key in the lock, glanced at Jaejoong once more, and gently pushed the door open. It was the last time this room would ever be used; the last time the door would ever need to be unlocked. Jongwoon walked in first, and Jaejoong followed a step behind. They found her at the side of the room, curled up against the wall and clutching an imaginary child to her chest, the way Ryeowook said she often did. It broke Jongwoon’s heart, and he could only hope that his and Jaejoong’s presence could begin to heal the wound their absence had left on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother.” Jongwoon knelt beside her. “We’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him, and as much as seeing her had hurt, seeing her lack of recognition hurt even more. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon took one of her hands in his. “I’m Jongwoon. Your firstborn. And this is Jaejoong, your second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She met his eyes, and although she did not recognize his face, she seemed almost to recognize his soul. “My babies,” she murmured, reaching first to touch Jongwoon’s cheek, and then turning to Jaejoong. She seemed almost in disbelief, seeing both of them grown up and yet still having the blessing. If only they had truly protected the blessing that she’d given them, instead of having to take the blessing once more. “How are you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The King is dead,” Jaejoong said. A spark of light, of hope, seemed to return to her eyes. The disbelief was still there, but it faded from the foreground, if only for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The peace treaty has been amended. I approved it this morning.” He’d been in discussions with the Church leadership since the day he’d married Kyuhyun and Ryeowook, and he’d made clear his intentions. No more secrecy, no more confinement, and no more concubines chosen without their consent. The Church leadership had been more than happy to hear it, and amendments were drafted in secret long before the King had gotten sick. “You’re free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong took her hand once more. “The Church will take care of you, like they used to. And you’ll get to see all your babies again, once you feel a little better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I know you’re really here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaejoong bit his lip. Jongwoon knew what must be going through his head, because Jaejoong asked himself that question all the time. “Sometimes it’s hard to know. But there are people, especially among the healers, who can help us figure it out. We’ll take care of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, just once, and they helped her to her feet. She embraced Jongwoon, holding tight to him, before Jaejoong led her out of the room. The brothers shared one last glance, before Jaejoong led her to the healers that were waiting at the palace gates to take her home. It was a glance that had a million implications, and the strongest one that came through was a small but growing sense of trust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon had a long way to walk, to repair the damage done by his father and all the kings that had come before. He had a ways to go, to regain Jaejoong’s trust. He had put Jaejoong in the relationship that had hurt him so badly, and whether it was truly his fault or not, Jongwoon felt the guilt in his heart even five years later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a start.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want me to what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyuhyun leaned forward, passing the strip of silk in his hands to Ryeowook. The three of them often gathered together, whenever Kyuhyun and Jongwoon could find the time. When Jongwoon was unavailable, his duties as crown prince filling too much of his schedule, Kyuhyun would go alone. He liked to tease Ryeowook and debate with him, and they seemed to be content spending hours together. Jongwoon only regretted that he hadn’t been able to spend his time with them as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a blindfold,” Kyuhyun said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I can see that. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, we–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going along with it, if this is some weird kink of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon snorted. “It’s not, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you want it to be,” Kyuhyun said, looking between the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook rolled his eyes. “So why exactly do you want me to put on the blindfold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a surprise for you,” Jongwoon said. They’d not yet told Ryeowook the King was dead, nor had they told him about the amendment negotiations. Jongwoon had asked him about it, in hypotheticals, but he’d never directly told him. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, if it didn’t go through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One that requires me to be blindfolded?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook sighed. With a look of exasperation at both of them, he reached up to smooth the silk over his eyes, tying the ribbon behind his head with delicate fingers. “Anything else I need to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just hold on tight.” Before Ryeowook could react, Kyuhyun picked him up in a bridal carry. While Kyuhyun wasn’t necessarily the strongest or most athletic alpha, he was able to keep hold of him stably. Ryeowook flailed at the motion, but after he’d realized what was going on he’d wrapped his arms around Kyuhyun’s neck on instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon opened the door, and held it open as Kyuhyun led the way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Kyuhyun said. “It’s perfectly legal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll find out in a minute,” Jongwoon said. “Just relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Kyuhyun carried Ryeowook down the hall, back to the quarters the alphas shared, Jongwoon looked back at the door to the little room and he felt a sense of relief in his chest. He would never have to enter that room, or a room like it, ever again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were nearly to their quarters, Jongwoon diverted down the hallway to the nursery. There were three nursemaids inside, all three gathered around the little play area they’d made in the middle of the room. The twins were crawling around the little play area, neither of them straying far from her sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your majesty,” one of the nursemaids said, as she noticed Jongwoon at the door. “You don’t normally come at this time of day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon smiled. “I’m taking them to see their mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nursemaids helped him to pick up the twins, putting one babe in each of his arms. They were big enough and had enough control of their muscles that they could sit up in his arms, not in any danger of falling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carried them to their quarters, and as he entered the room he saw that Kyuhyun had set Ryeowook down on the bed, as they’d planned. He still had the blindfold on, and Kyuhyun was gently rubbing over Ryeowook’s current baby bump as they waited for Jongwoon. “Your surprise is here,” Kyuhyun said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I take off the blindfold, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One second.” Jongwoon passed one of the twins to Kyuhyun, and with the remaining twin in his lap he sat down on Ryeowook’s other side. “Okay, you can take it off, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook reached up to push the blindfold up onto his forehead. His eyes immediately caught on the twins. “My babies,” he murmured, the same way that Jongwoon’s mother had murmured earlier in the day. It must’ve been an instinct, an unconscious reaction. Something that neither of them were really aware of having said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twins were quick to crawl from their fathers’ laps into Ryeowook’s arms. It was hard for him to hold both of them at the same time, but he seemed determined to keep both of them clutched as close to him as possible. As if this were a one-off, as if when the hour passed he would never see his daughters again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not going anywhere,” Jongwoon reassured him. “You’re free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They explained to him what had happened, and the longer they sat there, the more Jongwoon thought he saw that look in Ryeowook’s eyes. It was the same look that Ryeowook used to have, in the first months they’d known each other, and it was the same way that Ryeowook had looked at him on their wedding night. Love, or at least something that seemed like it. He would forgive them, if he hadn’t already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They set the twins back down to sleep, when the sun began to sink over the horizon. They had food brought to their quarters, with sweet fruits and desserts that Ryeowook had not been allowed while in seclusion. Kyuhyun liked to feed him strawberries, and to kiss the residue off his lips. Jongwoon liked to watch them. They were beautiful together, as Jongwoon had known they would be. Ryeowook had always shone, but he shone so much brighter when he was free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When the coronation comes,” Jongwoon said to Ryeowook, as they lay in bed that night, “you will be by my side, the same as Kyuhyun. The Church has already agreed to make you an honorary member of the leadership.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be in the spotlight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You deserve to have it.” Jongwoon swallowed, brushing a hair out of Ryeowook’s eyes. “The Church has already made the treaty and its amendments public to the clergy, and they’ll make it fully public within the next few weeks. Everyone will know anyway, and they will know that you are a hero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t feel like a hero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You agreed to this, even when it was under much worse circumstances. And you agreed to bear that burden, so that no one else would have to. Doesn’t that make you a hero?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook didn’t answer. He simply lay there, the fingers of one hand interlocked with Kyuhyun’s as they both held Ryeowook’s bump. Their baby. Not the first, and with a slim chance of inheriting anything if either of their older sisters presented as alphas. But this new baby was undeniably precious, especially because it would be their first baby born without the terror of separation looming over Ryeowook’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once the coronation’s passed, and after this one’s been born,” Ryeowook said, “I have somewhere that I want to go. All six of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon had never been to the sea before. It sounded odd, perhaps, because as a king he probably should’ve seen his land when he was younger and had fewer responsibilities. But the first time that he stepped into the water of the sea, he stepped in with one of his daughters following him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls liked to build things in the sand, and Jongwoon and Kyuhyun were happy to watch them do it. The guards that they’d brought were a far enough distance away that they didn’t feel crowded or trapped, but they were still close enough that none of the villagers could get too close or cause any danger. Not that they would’ve, but it was better to be careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook stood amongst the waves, knee deep, their infant son in his arms. He wasn’t looking back at Jongwoon or Kyuhyun, or at the village that ran along the shore. Ryeowook’s eyes were focused off to the horizon, as the sun set in the sky and painted the ocean purple and pink. Above the sound of the girls playing, of Kyuhyun gently telling them how to build more efficiently, the sound of the waves echoed rhythmically against the sand. There was a low whistle in the air, as if it was calling from far out within the depths. It had called Ryeowook here, to the same shore where he’d run as a child and thought of an eternity among the waves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook looked back at Jongwoon, and he reached out a hand to the alpha. With a few steps forward into the water, Jongwoon took it. “As happy as I can be,” Ryeowook said, once they were side by side. “I guess a part of me thought that the sea, the beach, the village, it would all look the same way as it did when I was a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook shook his head. “Things change, and that’s something we all have to accept. Nothing is ever the same as it was before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sometimes, that’s a good thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Ryeowook said. “Sometimes it can be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook kept his eyes focused on the horizon. Their son was awake, gently cooing as he grabbed randomly at the fabric of Ryeowook’s robes. He’d chosen to wear the robes of a priest, even at the beach, and his purple sleeves were the one of the only parts that remained dry. The tides and the splash had gotten to almost everything else, but Ryeowook’s arms had been kept up to his chest, holding the infant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you would’ve wanted?” Jongwoon asked, after a moment. It was a better question, one that could be more accurately answered. Not vague, not qualifiable with a million excuses. Ryeowook would answer, probably with a short explanation, and they would be closer to the truth, or at least to Ryeowook’s truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It depends on what point in time you’re comparing it against.” Ryeowook turned to look at him. “If you asked me about what I would’ve wanted when I was a child, then no, probably not. As a young priest, before I met you, again, probably not. But after I met you– Yes. It’s close enough to what I wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryeowook nodded. “We can never aim for the ultimate ideal. There’s always going to be something missing, some constraint that makes perfection impossible. But within those constraints, there are good outcomes. And this… For now, this is a good outcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only for now?” Jongwoon raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who am I to predict the future?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon laughed. Ryeowook worried too much, but he wouldn’t be their Ryeowook if he didn’t. “I love you,” Jongwoon said, as the sound of laughter and distant playful screams faded against the rhythm of the waves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you do,” Ryeowook said, and he turned to meet Jongwoon’s eyes. He took a deep breath. “And I think… I think I might love you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jongwoon leaned in to kiss him. The waves beat against their knees, the sun’s fading rays kissed their skin, and Jongwoon knew that they must’ve been beautiful. Art, made solid, made human. Both Kyuhyun and Ryeowook had always been so beautiful, but there was something about seeing Ryeowook in the fading light of summer, holding their son, the product of their love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was beautiful, and he was free.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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